Meet the Daughter
by SweetDeamon
Summary: Looking back on the evening, Remus mused as he sunk down upon the bed, it had all been utterly exhausting and downright bizarre. After all it wasn't every day somebody told you they thought your darling granddaughter was Voldemort Reincarnate! AU TLOC R/T
1. Giggling Lumps and Sinister Bumps

_Note: Hello once again and welcome to weird and wonderful whirlwind of rambling words otherwise known as My Imagination. Yes, it's that time again...! _

_I hope you all enjoy this shiny new addition to the Meet the... 'ficverse. **For a full list of the stories so far in chronological order, take a look at my freshly updated profile!** I've re-organised/deleted a few things so that it is nice and simple. Anyway, **this is Meet the Daughter**, which is currently the sequel to Meet the Animagus. We will be leaping forward in time quite a way, so it is highly likely that I might eventually get round to writing some one-shots to fill some gaps! In other words, if you want an accurate description of where this 'fic lies within the timeline, look at my profile. _

_For anybody new, this is an **AU 'ficverse in which Remus and Tonks survived the final battle**. Everything else will hopefully be explained below! _

_**We rejoin Carrie and Teddy around eight years after the events of Meet the Animagus.** I know their ages were a bit confused back then, so I'm going to say that they were probably nineteen, since Carrie had been at University for a year. Consequently **at the start of this story they are twenty seven years old**. I said it was a big time jump, didn't I? :-) _

_It only remains for me to say that I hope you enjoy this new story! Thank you in advance to anybody who is kind enough to leave me a review. You really do make me smile! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**1: Giggling Lumps and Sinister Bumps**

As soon as the door to the house was opened, the little girl bounded across the threshold and into the hallway, her mother's murmured reminder to wipe her feet falling on deaf ears as she reached to fling her arms around the waiting woman who had answered the door. She let out a small squeal as the woman stooped to smother the top of her head with kisses. Once released she made a beeline for the stairs, the calls of protest from the women below ignored in her excitement as she bounded up the steps, footfalls loud enough to wake the dead. Once at the top she ran across the landing before reaching to fling a bedroom door open wide as she declared:

"Why Grandad! WHAT BIG TEETH YOU HAVE!"

From his position tucked up in bed, a damp face flannel folded and balanced carefully upon his brow, Remus Lupin blinked groggily against the sudden flood of light puncturing the dim room. As the little girl dissolved into giggles, he reached to pull the flannel from his forehead, plastering a broad grin upon his face.

"Here's trouble!" he observed, stifling a cough into his sleeve, just in time for footsteps to sound upon the stairs and a firm voice exclaimed:

"IMOGEN DORA CAROLINE LUPIN..."

The child gave an exaggerated gasp, before dashing across the room and launching herself onto the bed, making her grandfather wince.

"Quick, Grandad! Hide me! Nana Dora's coming!" She struggled to suppress her giggling as her grandfather reached to throw back the duvet before bundling her underneath, throwing the cover back over the pair of them just in time for his wife to reach the top of the stairs.

"Shhhh! She'll hear you!" he warned, and the small lump beneath the duvet gave one last snigger before falling silent. Remus had just about enough time to plaster a suitably innocent expression upon his face when Dora appeared in the doorway.

The witch eyed both her husband and the lump with a raised eyebrow before inquiring:

"Have you seen Immy, Remus?"

"Have I seen Immy...?"

"Mm. She's our granddaughter, about this high, Mummy's colour hair, Grandad's eyes, Daddy's smile...Nana's inability to behave herself..."

"Oh! That Immy!"

"Yes, that Immy. Have you seen her?"

"No...I can't say I have."

The lump giggled.

"Well," Dora said, lips pursed against a smile. "If you do see her, will you tell her that she's a very naughty girl for waking Grandad up when he is resting, and if she doesn't come downstairs within the next ten seconds Nana Dora is going to eat all of her ice cream?"

"I'll be sure to tell her if I see her." Remus agreed, poking the lump in the side to make it be quiet, but it only giggled even more. Dora had barely turned to head back down the stairs when Imogen flung the covers off of her and scrambled off of the bed with a shriek of:

"ICE CREAM!" As she dashed to the door she paused just long enough to glance over her shoulder at her long-suffering grandfather to ask: "Do you want some, Grandad?"

"No thank you, Sweetheart. You go and eat it all before Nana Dora gets the chance."

"Grandad doesn't have time to eat ice cream, he's supposed to be _sleeping_!" Dora called as she descended the stairs, and Imogen's eyes widened and she reached to put a finger to her lips.

"Shhhhhhh!" she hissed as her grandfather slumped gratefully back against his pillows. "Grandad's trying to sleep!" And with that she tiptoed carefully backwards out of the room, before promptly slamming the door shut with a bang.

Down in the hallway, Imogen's mother Carrie Lupin winced at the noise, and as her mother-in-law reached the bottom of the stairs, she felt compelled to mutter:

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine, Carrie love." Dora said cheerily, only to turn to watch her granddaughter's stomping progress down the stairs with a muttered: "Sweet Merlin...!"

"Immy stop stamping, Grandad's trying to rest!" Carrie hissed, reaching to grab hold of her daughter by the hand so that she could steer her in the direction of the kitchen. "Come and wash your hands if you're going to have ice cream."

As she helped the four year old to reach the taps, Carrie cast a glance back over her shoulder at Dora, who was busy scooping ice cream into a plastic bowl.

Taking Imogen round to visit her grandparents was always, to Carrie's mind, both a joy and nightmare all rolled into one. It was nice to have somebody to keep Imogen entertained, somebody else to fuss over her or keep her out of mischief. But at the same time Carrie always felt somewhat embarrassed.

Because in truth, Carrie Lupin didn't consider herself to be the World's Greatest Mother. Indeed, she was beginning to think that she wasn't cut out for motherhood at all. There were several reasons for this, the first one being that so far in her short life Carrie's only child appeared to have developed a irrepressible urge to misbehave, especially when she and Carrie were at home alone together. It didn't seem to matter what Carrie said or did, Imogen was notoriously bad at doing as her mother said. Worse still was the fact that Imogen seemed perfectly happy to behave for her father and grandparents, much to Carrie's frustration, and Carrie could only conclude that at some point she had gotten the whole mother thing terribly, terribly wrong.

The second reason for Carrie's inadequacy, to her mind, was the fact that Carrie Lupin was different from the rest of her family...

Or perhaps it was more fitting to say that the rest of her family were not like Carrie Lupin. Indeed, Remus, Dora, Imogen and Carrie's husband Teddy were startlingly different from most people.

Because the rest of the Lupins had a secret that very few people could ever know.

They were magical.

Not the sort of happily ever after kind of magical found in the fairy tales that Carrie read to Imogen at bedtime most nights, nor the sort of magical that could be performed at children's birthday parties.

No, the other members of the Lupin family were magical as in real, proper magic.

Carrie had first met Teddy and his parents one summer when she and her family had moved in next door to them, and it had not been long before ten year olds Carrie and Teddy had become firm friends and eventually some years later something more. Even when Carrie had been forced to move in with one of her aunts after a run in with the darker side of the magical world had left both her parents incapable of caring for their three children, she and Teddy saw one another almost every day when he was home from boarding school. A year later, Carrie had gone away to study History at university whilst Teddy began to look for work, and despite the distance she saw him as often as ever. It was useful, she had supposed at the time, to have a boyfriend who had the ability to disappear from one place and appear in another within the blink of an eye.

Yes, Carrie had married into a family of witches and wizards, a couple of shape-shifters and a werewolf...

And then there was Carrie. Normal, muggle Carrie.

It had never been entirely easy to be the only muggle surrounded by magic, but since Imogen had been born things had been somewhat worse. Carrie couldn't help but feel that her daughter was entirely aware that her mother was different from the rest of the family, that she was in some way an easy target. It had always seemed to Carrie that as soon as Teddy had left for work each morning, baby Imogen would bawl and cry for hour after hour, only to consent to sleep peacefully as soon as her father arrived home from work. As a toddler Imogen would be perfectly contented to sit upon her grandfather's knee at the dinner table on a Sunday afternoon, but would insist on fidgeting dreadfully once deposited in Carrie's lap. Dora had only to speak what Carrie thought to be a few magic words in order to halt her granddaughter mid-tantrum, whilst it didn't seem to matter what Carrie said, Imogen would attempt scream the house down at home. And quite frankly, Carrie felt ashamed by her lack of control over the child.

Such an incident had occurred just that morning when Carrie had been unable to locate Imogen's favorite butterfly hairband; no matter how much she had insisted that they would have to make do with a different one because her searching had been fruitless, Imogen had screamed and shouted until she was pink in the face. Consequently they had arrived at Remus and Dora's house some hour later than planned, for it had taken Carrie so long to locate the missing hairband down the back of the sofa in the living room.

"She just screamed and screamed!" Carrie told Dora as they sat in the kitchen, having sent Imogen and her bowl of ice cream out to sit in the garden. "I offered her FIVE other hairbands, but she wouldn't listen, she had to have the lost one!"

As she poured the two of them each a steaming mug of tea, Dora puffed her cheeks in exasperation.

"Children." she mused as she reached to push one mug across the table for Carrie to take. "They're only any good when they're somebody else's."

Carrie gave a disbelieving huff.

"Well Ted doesn't seem to have any trouble with her." she muttered despairingly. "He thinks she's a little angel."

"Remus used to think Teddy was a little angel." Dora recalled as she leant back in her chair, reaching to sweep the dark brown hair back from her eyes. "Once, the little bugger got hold of my wand and set my work robes on fire five minutes before I was due to leave for work! And d'you know what Remus did? He LAUGHED!" The witch cast a rather accusing look up towards the ceiling before explaining: "It's a dad thing. And it's worse with girls, believe me. What I got away with when I was Immy's age with my dad around...! I shouldn't worry about it, Carrie love. It's all perfectly normal."

"Is it?" Carrie wondered dully, gazing down at the steam that was rising from her mug of tea. "Sometimes I'm not sure..."

"She's a good girl." Dora insisted, rising to her feet and crossing the kitchen in search of the biscuit barrel. "She's full of beans and she can scream for England, but then again so could all the other four year old children I've ever met."

"Maybe if her dad was at home once in a blue moon she might be a little less unruly." Carrie muttered, but Dora merely shrugged and told her brightly:

"Not long now, Carrie! He'll have qualified in few weeks time!"

"If he hadn't gone and got himself sacked, we wouldn't be waiting at all."

Dora frowned deeply, fingers tapping warily upon the biscuit barrel at this rather bitter complaint, and Carrie hurried muttered:

"Sorry. I...shouldn't."

For the first two years of their marriage, Teddy had worked at the Ministry of Magic in the Office of Muggle Communications as a Magical-Muggle Liason Officer. The pay had been relatively poor for somebody of his qualifications, but there had been plenty of opportunity for advancement within the department and the hours had been good. It had been three years since Teddy had arrived home unexpectedly one afternoon with a face like thunder, hair a furious shade of scarlet and paper forms in hand. He'd stormed into the kitchen where Carrie had been midway through attempting to persuade Imogen to eat her vegetables, and flung the papers down upon the kitchen table as he announced:

"I can't take it anymore, I'm joining the Aurors!"

It had taken him some while to calm down enough to admit to the reality of the situation: he'd had a terrible row with his boss about her, in Teddy's mind, unacceptable attitude towards a particularly sensitive case they were working on involving a Squib whose magical parents had abandoned her with a muggle family who lived across the road. The debate had degenerated into a shouting match and Teddy had managed to inform the insufferable woman that she was a disgrace to her profession. Needless to say, she had been deeply offended and had given him the sack on the spot.

Carrie's sympathy had lasted an uncharacteristically short few minutes.

"You can't join the Aurors!" she'd exclaimed as Imogen had succeeded in throwing the bowlful of vegetables all over the kitchen tiles. "We've got a child to think about!"

"What's your point?" he'd asked irritably as he set about scrawling his name atop the application form that he had stormed into his mother's office and demanded a copy of a mere fifteen minutes earlier. "I've spoken to Mum, she and Harry are fine with it."

Carrie had wanted to point out that he had yet to ask whether or not she was fine with it too, but instead she'd told him:

"There's a good reason why people join the Aurors straight out of Hogwarts! Three years of daily training with little if no time off and just about enough pay to eat a decent sized meal once a month! Doesn't scream family security now, does it?"

"We'll manage." he'd grunted, much to her fury. "Besides, we'll be on double my old salary at least once I qualify!"

"D'you think your mum would have joined the Aurors if she'd waited till she and your dad had you?" she'd asked, reaching to prise the spoon that Imogen had been using as a very effective drumstick free from the toddler's grasp.

"No," Teddy had admitted with a dismissive wave of the hand, just as Imogen let out a wail of protest, face contorting miserably. "But then again, I'm not married to a werewolf with two decades worth of debt to pay off."

When they had finally sat down calmly to have a proper discussion about this drastic career change, it had soon become apparent to Carrie that really, she didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter.

Because Teddy had his heart set upon the matter. Dora had been terribly excited and proud at the prospect of her son deciding to follow in her footsteps, and within hours the entire extended family had seemed to know all about it. Teddy's godfather Harry, himself the Head of the Auror Department, and Teddy's Uncle Ron, a third Auror in the family, had already flooed to announce that they planned to throw a party to celebrate the news (the Potters and the Weasleys would find any excuse to throw a party as often as they could), and though Teddy had attempted to explain that really he hadn't made up his mind for certain, Carrie had rather thought they could save time and just skip their discussion altogether.

And that was how Teddy had come to sign up for Auror training.

Carrie felt rather as though she never saw him after that. She woke up each morning just in time for him to kiss her goodbye, and he wouldn't return until late each evening, usually sporting some new bruises and too exhausted to do much beside shovel dinner into his mouth and fall asleep in front of the television. In fact some nights he didn't come home at all. When the Ministry did see fit to give him some time off, they rarely did anything exciting, for they simply didn't have the money to do so. Indeed, money matters were fast growing so dire that just a week previously they had been forced to move out of their house and into a flat the other side of town.

It'll be better in the long run. That was what everybody always told her. But Carrie didn't really care about making things better, she just wanted thing back to the way they had been before. She tried her best not to be bitter or resentful, but at times, especially when Imogen was playing up, it was a struggle to say the least.

And yesterday night, or perhaps it had been the early hours of this morning, Carrie wasn't quite sure which, Teddy had finally arrived back from the Ministry, flopped down upon the bed beside her and made an announcement that had made the whole sorry situation at least ten times worse.

"He wants another one." Carrie mumbled worriedly as Dora dropped back down into her seat, setting the biscuit barrel down between them, and when the witch merely offered her a raised eyebrow, Carrie elaborated: "Another baby, I mean. He said so, last night."

She waited to see Dora's reaction to this bombshell, and was somewhat underwhelmed when the witch merely reached to pull the lid from the barrel and eyed the contents in contemplation.

"And you don't." she said after a sizable pause, reaching to extract a custard cream that had been hiding beneath a couple of chocolate digestives.

It wasn't a question.

Carrie felt herself blush rather guiltily.

"It's not that I don't..." she mumbled, fiddling rather self-consciously with the wedding ring upon her finger. "I mean...I love Imogen...obviously...but...it's just...well..." she trailed off, biting her lip in an effort to explain, only for Dora to shake her head.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." the witch announced through a mouthful of biscuit. "Or Teddy, for that matter. Explanations are for debates, Carrie love, and you don't debate having a baby. You either both want to or you don't do it." she paused to frown deeply for a moment before muttering: "Except for when it happens by accident, of course..."

Carrie smiled gratefully at this assurance, but couldn't help but wonder:

"Do you think he'll be angry?"

Dora gave a soft snort of amusement as she reached for her tea.

"Teddy? Angry with you? Well that would be a first!"

"But what if he is?" Carrie insisted, frowning at the idea.

"If he does get angry? Well, you better send him round here! I'll give him angry!"

Carrie was about to let out a half-hearted chuckle, only for a loud crashing sound to make her jump. Her gaze instantly snapped over towards the back door, but when she spotted Imogen sat in an unnaturally serene fashion upon the grass, engrossed in eating her ice cream, it suddenly occurred to Carrie that the sound had in actual fact come from upstairs.

Dora rose abruptly to her feet.

"Won't be a moment!" the witch announced, shooting her daughter-in-law a fleeting smile, and with that she rushed out of the kitchen, down the hall and up the stairs.

Carrie stared after her for a long moment, frowning deeply before she was distracted by Imogen shouting:

"Nana Dora, look! The post's here!"

Carrie rose from her chair just in time for a large grey owl to come swooping through the open doorway, landing neatly upon kitchen table. It stuck out an expectant leg, eying Carrie impatiently, and she reached to untie the letter that had been secured to the bird's leg. Glancing down at the envelope, Carrie saw that it had been addressed to Dora, and as she dropped it down onto the table she spotted the crest of St. Mungo's Hospital upon the seal at the back.

"Thank you." she told the bird, crossing the kitchen to retrieve the box of owl treats that was kept beside the bread bin. "Immy! This owl needs a treat or two, are you going to come and help me?"

Stomping footsteps upon concrete announced that yes, Imogen certainly would come to help, and this was perhaps lucky for the owl because when offered the box the little girl grabbed a large fistful of treats before holding them out for the animal to eat. But apparently it was not satisfied with this generous reward because once the box had been replaced and Imogen had skipped back out into the garden, the owl fluttered it's feathers impatiently, before giving Carrie's retreating hand a sharp peck.

"Ouch!" the muggle muttered, hastily pulling her hand out of the bird's reach, but it merely hopped forward on the counter top, straining to peck at her again. Carrie retreated over to the table, reaching to pick up the letter, eying it in consideration. "Perhaps you want paying or something." she decided as the bird flew after her, landing upon the table with an insistent hoot. Carrie made for the hallway, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. She was about to call Dora's name before thinking better of it, for she supposed Remus might have been asleep.

It was at that precise moment that she spied slight movement up upon the landing, the twitch of a shadow, and she heard Dora hissing:

"Come on Sweetheart, wake up!"

In the following silence, Carrie dared creep forward a step, frowning deeply, and she was again just thinking that she might call quietly up the stairs when she heard a gentle tapping noise, growing steadily louder.

"Remus love?" Dora called, louder this time. "Wake up!"

Slowing, shifting movement drifted down the stairs and Carrie felt her chest constrict in sudden worry at the sound of a dull groan, followed by the witch's half-squeak of:

"Thank Merlin..."

"Again...?" Remus mumbled groggily, and at the sound of more stiff movement Carrie could deduce that he was lying sprawled upon the landing floor, and Dora agreed:

"Yes, love. Again...twice today, in fact."

There came the sound of more slow, stiff movement and Carrie spied Remus' hand reach to grasp hold of the bannister as he hauled himself back onto his feet.

"It's getting worse." Dora murmured worriedly. "You're getting worse..."

"It's been full moon." Remus pointed out, and if she leant to press her back against the wall Carrie could just about see the two of them, she chewing fretfully upon a nail and he still grasping hold of the bannister to keep himself steady. "Everything gets worse around full moon." He reached with his free hand to pull his wife's hand away from her mouth, grip firm and reassuring. "You mustn't worry about it, Dora, you really mustn't."

"And if I'm right?" Dora asked, eyes upon him growing wide, panicked. "What if it's not just the full moon? What if you really are getting worse? What if there's something wrong with you..."

"What if, what if!" Remus reached to pull the witch into a firm hug, her face buried with a sigh in his shoulder. "Don't do that to yourself, Sweetheart. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen, there's no point trying to predict it. Wait to hear from Mungo's before you start jumping to conclusions."

"I wrote to them again." Dora told him, withdrawing her face from his shoulder just far enough so that he could see her face contort with annoyance. "I told them exactly what I think of their bloody waiting list..."

"Perhaps it's a good thing." Remus reasoned, at last releasing the bannister so that he could reach to smooth her hair absentmindedly. "I'm pretty sure they would have whisked me away into a ward by now if they thought I was dying..."

Dora flinched, her face visibly paling.

"Don't...don't talk about dying." she mumbled, leaning into his palm as his hand brushed her cheek. "I can't stand it."

Carrie was surprised to hear the Deputy Head of Aurors sound so feeble, so frightened at the prospect of loss or death. After all, having joined the Aurors straight out of school and the Order of the Phoenix just a few years later, Dora Lupin was by now very much accustomed to people dying. To some people, people who have never lost a loved one or been in mortal peril themselves, dying is more of a concept than a reality. It is an idea, something that is going to happen but you don't quite know what will occur when it does. Only when it happens do you see it as a reality, as a given fact. And cold, hard facts are far easier to accept than blind uncertainty, because they are truly there before your eyes, you can reason, justify, explain them.

Accept them.

Understand the pain of them and let it engulf you, knowing that one day it might fade or perhaps it never will, but either way it is there for a reason and you must deal with it. After some practice you learn to speak of it without feeling unnerved, be bordering on flippant instead of afraid...

And yet here was Dora, unshakable and fearless Dora, Dora who when it came to loss had been there, bought the t-shirt and worn it until it had faded and frayed, utterly shaken and obviously afraid.

Because it was different, losing the one you loved above all others. It was different to lose an entire half of yourself. Carrie could barely imagine it, being so utterly empty and alone, living a dull, joyless half life without the love that you had so treasured and adored above all else...

Though Dora had never much flinched at the prospect of her husband's death before, not from what Carrie could recall. And there had been times, during the War and other more recent conflicts that the witch must have realised it could happen, that Remus might dodge a curse one moment and be struck down stone dead by the next.

But that wasn't a given fact. Perhaps he might dodge the next one and then the next, perhaps he would come back safe, there would be no indication that he might not. In contrast illness could be far less hopeful, far more obvious. It was painful to watch a person grow weak and sickly, far more difficult to remain unshaken and so sure that they shall recover...

Carrie found herself staring down at the envelope in her hands, the green stamped crest of St. Mungo's searing her eyes as she heard Remus insist:

"I'm certainly not dying, for Merlin's sake!"

_That's easy enough for you to say_, Carrie thought, feeling quite cross at him for being so unconcerned when Dora saw fit to crumble at the mere notion. _It won't matter to you in the end after all, you'll be dead and it'll be the rest of us left behind with a gaping hole in all our chests_. The muggle had an almost unstoppable urge to run up the stairs and demand to know what was going on, what precisely was wrong. If talk had grown this grim, surely she ought to have heard about it? Surely they would have told Teddy if his father were ill...

"Of course you're not." Dora agreed, lips twitching towards a smile. She reached to press a hand to the werewolf's forehead, frowning deeply. "Perhaps you're just dehydrated."

"Perhaps." he agreed, swatting her hand away and pulling her closer to him so that he could press a firm kiss to her forehead. "Perhaps I simply felt like keeping my wife on her toes."

"Perhaps." she murmured, rising up upon the toes in question to brush a kiss to his lips. "In which case, you're wicked."

"I think you'll find the phrase is wicked _witch_, not wizard."

For a long moment, the couple gazed at one another intently, steeling their nerves, regaining their composure after the latest blow, and slowly, deliberately, she reached to straighten his rumpled clothing, rose up upon tiptoes again to flatten his hair. He reached to wipe a careful thumb across her cheeks, as if to brush away a few stray tears and then they both smiled gratefully at one another and she murmured:

"Perhaps."


	2. A Necessary Lie

_Note: For anybody unfamiliar with previous characters from this series, "Crazy Auntie Cleo", more frequently known as Cleopatra "Cleo" Clancy, is Carrie's best friend from high school who, despite being entirely ignorant of the magical world, believes herself to be an expert witch of the greatest skill and knowledge!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**2: A Necessary Lie**

It was nearing late afternoon by the time Carrie had given up concentrating on reading a story book to Imogen and passed on the duty to Dora instead.

She was finding it difficult to concentrate or think of anything that afternoon, ever since she'd presented the letter from St. Mungo's to Dora upon the Auror's reappearance downstairs. Carrie had thought the moment might be somewhat tense or emotional, and consequently she had felt quite strange when the witch had simply glanced at the envelope before shoving it into the pocket of her robes, concluding:

"Mungo's...bird'll be after a signature..."

Carrie had watched rather numbly as Dora had swept into the kitchen, rummaged around in a drawer until she had located a scrap of parchment, a quill and ink, before scribbling a loopy signature and presenting it to the owl, which took the little square of paper surprisingly delicately in it's beak, before finally swooping back out of the window.

"Is...everything alright, then? Upstairs, I mean." Carrie had asked, offering her mother-in-law one last chance to come clean, but Dora had merely busied herself with extracting a large saucepan out of a cupboard, setting it down upon the stove.

"Hm?" she'd murmured as Carrie had watched her closely. "Oh right, upstairs. Yes, everything's fine, love. Be a star, will you? Come chop some vegetables for me? You are staying for dinner, aren't you? Thought we'd stick this on to simmer for a few hours..."

And that had been that.

Once she had deposited Imogen in Dora's lap some hours later and had sat for a while observing the witch's wildly enthusiastic and slightly warped rendition of Little Red Riding Hood, which had been Imogen's most beloved story for as long as her family could remember, Carrie still failed to squash the deep sense of apprehension in the pit of her stomach. She was positive that something needed to be done about it.

"D'you suppose Remus might like a cup of tea?" she'd wondered, the question quite drowned out by Dora mid-roar as the wolf-come-lion chased Little Red Riding Hood through the woods, much to Imogen's high-pitched terror. Carrie didn't really mind, she didn't wait for a response. Instead she went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

Remus was awake when she ventured upstairs armed with a couple of mugs of tea grasped carefully in one hand. She'd knocked softly upon the door and called:

"It's Carrie. Are you decent?"

"Am I ever?" came the unexpectedly witty yet equally bitter response.

Carrie reached to push open the door and as she shuffled inside she found her father-in-law sat upon the edge of the bed, dragging a comb through his silvery hair and looking pensive.

"Looks like you're trying!" she commented brightly, and the werewolf promptly plastered a grin onto his face.

"Is that for me?" he asked, gaze coming to rest upon the steaming mugs in her hand, and she told him:

"One of them at least!" She held one cup out to him, and he reached to take it from her, smiling gratefully.

"Thank you."

As she dropped down to perch upon the bed beside him, reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear so that she could eye him searchingly, the muggle asked:

"How are you?"

"Perfectly well." he assured her, rather as if he knew she wouldn't believe him. "I was about to come downstairs, actually. There's talk of dinner."

"Vegetable soup and crusty bread."

"That sounds good."

"It is. Dora only made half of it."

Remus sniggered into his mug as he took a sip of tea.

"You do tease her dreadfully!" he observed, and Carrie gave a shrug.

"Only about her cooking. Somebody's got to do it!"

As the two of them chuckled somewhat conspiratorially, Carrie wondered how she might steer the conversation back in the right direction, and found herself telling him:

"Sorry about Imogen, earlier...barging in whilst you were sleeping...I'm sure it made you feel a hundred times worse!"

"On the contrary," Remus assured her as they both gazed absentmindedly out of the bedroom window at the houses across the street. "She can barge in on me as often as she likes. She makes me feel at least a hundred times better." When Carrie's expression grew disbelieving he simply said: "Just you wait until you have grandchildren!"

"I just thought she might have worn you out."

"In a few short minutes?"

"Why not? She does it to me all the time! Besides, you've been up here all day."

She waited for him to offer some sort of explanation, but instead he took long sip of his tea and wondered:

"Is Ted joining us this afternoon?"

"No." Carrie frowned deeply. It was a silly question, she thought rather irritably. Teddy home early enough for dinner at his parents' house? As if!

Remus puffed his cheeks in exasperation, seemingly entirely aware of exactly what she thought of his question.

"I thought you'd had a lucky escape." he confessed, glancing sideways to look at her. "With Ted, I mean. When he didn't join the Aurors straight out of school. I thought if he didn't do it then he wouldn't do it at all. I thought that would be the end of the matter, lucky you..."

"But I'm unlucky now?"

"Yes and no. Being married to an Auror is...never dull..."

"It's bloody awful, isn't it?" Carrie grunted, face contorting bitterly. Despite having promised herself she wouldn't complain about the situation she couldn't seem to help herself now that she had Remus very nearly encouraging her to do so. After all, he understood how she felt better than anybody else. "Admit it, it's dreadful. Waiting for Dora to come home and worrying when she's five minutes late. Having her come back all bruised and beaten all the time...I look at Teddy coming back as if he's been through utter hell and I think for the love of Merlin! That's the Ministry beating him up, the dark wizard's haven't even started on him yet!"

"It will get better once he qualifies. Especially if he qualifies _well_. Dora rarely comes home injured seriously. She has the odd bruise here or there, but that's usually it. Being trained as an Auror is probably more harmful than being qualified as one in the grand scheme of things. The Ministry might not try to kill you whilst they teach you, that much is true, but the real job isn't as intense. You don't spend all day every day on raids getting spells hurled at you. But you do when you're training. No, it's not the danger that ever really bothered me about it as a job. It's more...the way it divides you."

"The way it divides you?" Carrie wondered, wondering what else she could add to her list of Reasons to Hate My Husband's Career Choice.

"There's definitely a sense of...elitism when it comes to Aurors. They do rather think that, as a group, they are superior. It's not that other people are not as good as them per say. It's more that other people's lives are less fulfilling, in their opinion. They do a worthwhile job and they are very much aware of it. There's a fierce sense of comradeship...it's rather like belonging to a very exclusive club, perched on the very top of the moral high ground."

"They're a bunch of snobs?"

"They're extremely proud of their work."

"They're a bunch of snobs."

"In the nicest possible sense of the phrase...yes."

"I knew it."

"I like them."

"What, all of them?"

"Pretty much."

"Even Dora's ex-boyfriend Robert?"

"Especially Dora's ex-boyfriend Robert."

Amid their laughter Carrie heard the sound of the front door clicking open downstairs, and she was just about to wonder aloud who the new arrival could possibly be when Imogen's shriek of excitement provided an answer.

"DADDY!"

Remus offered the muggle a raised eyebrow as he rose carefully to his feet.

"Perhaps you spoke too soon." he observed brightly, and with that he led the way towards the stairs.

They arrived in the hallway to find a squealing Imogen being twirled around in dizzying circles by her father, who promptly set the little girl down on her feet in order to greet:

"Hi Dad."

"Nice neck brace." Remus offered as he headed for the kitchen, reaching to slap a hand down upon his son's shoulder as he passed, and Teddy laughed.

Carrie eyed the new addition to her husband's attire with a deep frown.

"What in Merlin's name have you been doing now?" she wondered as he turned his attention to her, smiling brightly.

"Don't look so furious, Carrie." he said, reaching to tug a little at the stiff band of padded material that had been strapped firmly around his neck. "They've sent me home for the afternoon because of it."

Carrie gave a snort.

"Makes it sound like you did it on purpose." she muttered, only for her annoyance to fade when he ignored Imogen's tugging at his robes in order to step forward to envelope his wife in his arms.

"They were teaching us how to fall over properly."

"There's a right way to fall over?"

"Yep. That's not the way I demonstrated it, though. Apparently you're not supposed to fall on your head. Has a habit of breaking your neck, they say. So they strapped me up and told me to go home before I do myself any more damage."

"I see. Well, Dora's going to mock you."

"She had better not! The only reason she falls over safely is because she gets so much more practice than everybody else!"  
>Carrie sniggered, only for the sound to be cut off abruptly when he leant to press a kiss to her lips.<p>

"So," he said, drawing back from her and standing up straight for her examination. "Does it suit me?"

Carrie eyed the neck brace for no longer than half a second before admitting:

"You look ridiculous. Isn't that right, Immy? Daddy looks daft, doesn't he?"

Imogen reached to press a hand across her mouth, though it didn't seem to do much to smother her giggle.

"You look very silly, Daddy." she informed her father, hands flying to her hips as if looking silly really was a terrible crime, and the wizard promptly rounded on her, eyebrows arched.

"Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"Really? Do I really look silly?"

"Yes, Daddy! Very, very silly!"

"Very, very silly?"

"Yes!"

"Well then," Teddy exclaimed, arms darting forwards to snatch his daughter up into his arms, eliciting a small shriek of laughter. "Do you know what I think, Immy? I think you are a very, very cheeky little girl!"

"The penny drops." Carrie sniggered, and with that she watched him carry the squirming child into the living room to greet his mother.

Despite his injury, which he assured her repeatedly was only minor, Carrie felt glad to have Teddy around for the rest of the day. She quite forgot her worries about Remus amidst Teddy and Dora's constant jibes and casual mockery of one another and the atmosphere was perfectly cheery when as a family they sat down around the kitchen table to eat dinner. As it seemed to do a lot these days, talk soon turned to subject of Auror training.

"I have a bone to pick with you, Mum." Teddy had informed his mother as they set about passing a plate of crusty bread around the table.

"Oh dear." Dora said, offering him a raised eyebrow along with the plate, and as he reached to take some bread her son told her:

"Yes, Harry tells me it's entirely your fault."

"What's that, love?"

"He says you're in charge of qualifications this year."

"I am."

"Well then, how come I don't get to qualify until so late? Is that normal?"

"Perfectly normal, Ted. It's the same every year."

Teddy's face contorted irritably.

"Can't you move it forward just a little bit? Just...I don't know...ten days or something?"

"Ten days?"

"Yeah. What's ten days?"

"It's ten days worth of training time, that's what it is. You can do a lot in ten days. That' a rather specific number, anyway. Why ten?"

Teddy ripped off a chunk of bread with somewhat more force than was strictly necessary and dunked it into his soup.

"Because thanks to you I can't sign up for the new duelling team! I won't qualify before the deadline!"

Dora looked up from her dinner to eye her son wearily.

"You want to join our national duelling team?" she asked, sounding rather offended by the notion, and Teddy asked:

"Well why not?"

"Because...! Duelling shouldn't be a sport, Teddy! It's...it's violent and dangerous! Being an Auror's a job, not a game, for Merlin's sake!"

"Nobody's trying to kill one another, Mum..."

"I don't give a toss! They can dress it up any way they like, but that doesn't change anything! It's not a sport!"

"So if I did join...you'd be ashamed?" Teddy attempted to clarify, but the witch simply shook her head.

"It doesn't really matter what I think. You can't do it anyway. And before you ask, I'm not qualifying you early just so you can waltz off around Europe making a spectacle of yourself. This isn't ancient Rome, you know! We don't stick people in arenas and cheer them on whilst they hex one another into the middle of next week..."

"Seems like we do..."  
>"Shut up, Remus. You know when Mad-Eye was around he never stood for such rubbish! Britain never had a National Duelling Team! We went out and fought with dark wizards, not one another!"<p>

"How come we have a team now, then?" Carrie asked as Teddy let out a heavy sigh.

"Publicity, mostly." Remus murmured as Dora consented to stop scowling when Imogen reached to tug on her sleeve. "The Ministry wants everybody to support our Aurors, see how skilled they are, how safe they can keep us."

"I just thought," Teddy murmured despairingly, "well...it's good experience for one thing. And there's a massive cash prize for the overall winner..."

"You want the money?" Dora asked, gaze snapping away from Imogen in an instant.

"Wouldn't you, Mum?"

"I'd not join for all the gold in Gringott's, Ted."

"You could retire early with as much gold as that."

The look Dora shot across the table was utterly poisonous.

"Jasmine Wickes has been on the team for years." Teddy pointed out, as if this made the whole thing somehow acceptable, but his mother merely snapped:

"Well Jasmine needs her head looked at!"

There was a rather long silence as the witch looked a little embarrassed to have lost her temper. In a vain attempt to rescue the situation she let out a vague chuckle and recalled:

"She asks me every year, you know. If I'll join. Even now when I'm much too old to stand a chance."

"I'm not sure age has a whole lot to do with it. Alastor would have taken them all on sitting down!" Remus reasoned, and quite suddenly the atmosphere lifted and everybody smiled.

"Yeah well," Dora pointed out as she scooped up the final mouthful of her soup with her spoon. "I'm not that good."

"I'd bet on you." Carrie told her, and the Deputy Head of Aurors offered her a raised eyebrow and said:

"Lucky for you I'm not competing, then."

The sky outside had grown dark by the time it came for Carrie, Teddy and Imogen to head home, the little girl fast asleep in her father's arms as they stepped outside and bid Remus and Dora goodnight. Looking at the two of them stood in the doorway, Remus leaning against the doorframe and Dora beside him, smiling brightly, Carrie felt disconcerted by just how normal they looked, knowing full well that there was an unopened letter in the witch's pocket that might very well bring the world crashing down around them.

They had always been good at acting.

The thought very nearly made Carrie scowl.

When they shuffled through their own front door a few minutes later, Carrie and Teddy were forced to dodge an array of empty cardboard boxes that had been left to litter the hallway, remnants of their recent move. It still felt alien, their cramped little flat, Carrie didn't feel as if it were really theirs. It had been entirely empty when they had arrived, and for a knockdown price from a dusty looking shop in Diagon Alley they had paid for a selection of old and mismatched pieces of furniture with which to fill it. There hadn't been much choice in what they had been given. They had simply made a list of what they thought they would require and the next thing they knew a crowd of wizards had appeared to furnish the place. Looking around Carrie supposed they hadn't done too badly by this arrangement. True, most of the furniture looked rather dull and tired, but it all seemed to be in reasonable shape, even the old squashy sofa was only sagging a little in the middle. Overall Carrie was quite pleased with the way it had turned out.

There was, however, one exception to this, and it resided in a corner of Imogen's bedroom.

Teddy had intended to have it in the master bedroom instead, but Carrie had refused because quite frankly sleeping with it in the room gave her the creeps, unlike Imogen who didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

It was a large, grand and ancient looking chest of drawers made of darkly patterned wood. It had been decorated with elaborate swirls and unrecognisable designs that jutted out from all angles, leaving it to cast a somewhat sinister shadow upon the walls around it. It's previous owner had seemingly been quite fond of it because it had arrived gleaming with polish, but Carrie had taken an instant dislike to it. It was also the only piece of furniture that had arrived with a noticeable flaw – the large pair of doors belonging to it's bottom compartment, a cupboard taking up nearly half of it's mass, were stuck shut. No matter what array of muttered spells or brute force Teddy bestowed upon them, the doors simply wouldn't open. He had intended to ask Remus over to have a try, only the full moon had put such plans on hold. For now they crammed all of Imogen's clothes into the top few drawers.

It was this item of furniture that, having set a sleeping Imogen down upon her bed and tucked the duvet carefully around her, Teddy's gaze came to rest upon, and he frowned deeply and whispered:

"Must get Dad to look at that, mustn't I?"

"Mm." Carrie nodded, stepping forward to lean to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead.

"It's been a few days since full moon."

"Mm."

"So...I could ask him, couldn't I?"

"I don't see why not." Carrie turned to look at him questioningly when he sounded quite doubtful and found his expression distinctly troubled.

"You went round there early afternoon, didn't you?" Teddy said, reaching to put an arm around her in order to lead her quietly from the room, and as he reached to pull the door shut behind them Carrie agreed:

"That's right."

"Was Dad there?"

"Yes."

"Was he sleeping?"

"For a little..."

Teddy leant back against the wall, expression distinctly troubled.

"I thought he might have been." he murmured, frowning deeply. "I could just tell..." For a moment he eyed his shoes worriedly before looked up at his wife, gaze upon her intent as he told her: "Something's not right, Carrie. Something's just not right with him right now..."

Carrie pursed her lips firmly together, wondering whether or not to tell him about the conversation she had overheard, or about the letter from St. Mungo's...

She couldn't. She simply couldn't do it. It wasn't up to her to tell him, it was up to his parents, it was their business and not hers...

Except it was her business. It was Teddy's business even more than it was hers, it was the very foundations of family life as they knew it being shaken to the core...

Teddy would be upset. He might get angry. He didn't like to be kept in the dark. If Carrie told him the truth he'd only be upset with his parents for not telling him themselves and what good would that do? This was no time for family upsets, it was a time for unity and for being strong...

They would tell him. They would, given time. Carrie needed to give them the chance to, at least...

And what if Remus wasn't ill? What if the letter had brought good news? It would be pointless to cause a scene about it all...

_"As I was saying, you don't need to know everything, Carrie. If it's important you know something, obviously we'd tell you..."_

_"Would you?" Almost as soon as the two words had left her mouth, Carrie winced at how challenging they sounded. Dora's brow creased a little in bemusement._

_"Of course we would, love." she said, reaching for her tea. She took a sip, smiling assuringly as she told the muggle: "We don't do unnecessary secrets in this house. You know that." _

It had been years since Carrie and Dora had had that terribly awkward conversation about trust, since Dora had laughed off all of Carrie's insecurities until Carrie herself had felt so utterly pathetic that she had sworn to herself that she would lose them entirely.

She never really had, though. She still didn't wholly trust Remus and Dora's definition of what constituted a _necessary secret_. Indeed the idea that she didn't get a say in this definition now that she was an adult bothered her considerably. Even if on many levels she was separated from them now, now that it was Remus and Dora on their own, then Carrie and Teddy with Imogen. Remus and Dora weren't responsible for Carrie in the slightest these days. That probably forfeited her right to complain about their secrets just as much as being a child had done beforehand.

She resolved to give them a chance. An opportunity to tell the truth.

"I'm sure he's alright, love." she told her husband, reaching to lay a reassuring hand upon his arm. "It was probably a rough full moon, that's all."

"Mm...probably." Teddy mumbled as he turned to lead the way back to the sitting room, and Carrie was certain that he didn't believe her in the slightest.

That night she slept fitfully, waking so often that she wondered if she had ever slept at all, and before she knew it the clock upon the bedside table read five am, it's alarm ringing shrilly in her ears.

Teddy reached with a blind arm to whack a hand down upon the infernal object to stop the racket, and for a brief moment lay perfectly still, relishing the comfort of the bed beneath him.

"Morning." Carrie whispered, not bothering to look down from her bleak staring up at the ceiling, and her single word seemed to jolt the wizard into action.

"Good morning, Beautiful!" he said, suddenly brimming with energy as he leant to press a kiss to her forehead before throwing back the duvet and sitting up.

Carrie watched him get to his feet and make a beeline for the bathroom, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck with a deep frown.

"Is it still hurting?" Carrie wondered, and he glanced back at her with a shrug.

"It's just a little stiff, it doesn't hurt much at all." Teddy told her, and she shuffled further down beneath the duvet, smiling vaguely as she murmured:

"The wonders of magical medicine...!"

"Wonders indeed." Teddy agreed as he disappeared out into the hall, and Carrie frowned and muttered:

"Let's hope we don't need them."

She lay listening to the sound of running water and his movements around the flat as he got ready to leave for work, and when he finally returned, black robes trimmed in Auror Red folded in the crook of his arm and hair still damp from the shower, she watched him dress, not feeling her usual rush to talk to him as much as she could before he disappeared for the day.

"What're you up to this morning, then?" she finally asked as he sat upon the edge of the bed, lacing up his sturdy black boots.

"Duelling Stance Practice. Mum's going to hurl hexes at us until we either fall over or beg for mercy."

"Does that work? Begging for mercy?"

"With Mum? No, never. But Julian Abbot lives in hope."

Despite herself, Carrie sniggered, and as he stood up Teddy offered her a wide grin.

"What are you going to do this morning?" he asked as he stepped around the side of the bed to stand looking down at her.

"I don't know..." Carrie confessed. "Cleo might pop round this afternoon, if she's still got the day off work. We could take Immy to the park or something."

Teddy paused, midway through leaning down to kiss her goodbye.

"You want to risk letting the wondrous role model that is Crazy Auntie Cleo loose outside in a park with our impressionable four year old daughter?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards, and Carrie was forced to bury her face in her pillow to stifle a giggle.

"It's your funeral, Sweetheart." Teddy whispered, resorting to kissing her upon the cheek instead. "Have a wonderful day. I love you."

Carrie lay in bed for another half an hour before rising, getting herself washed and dressed and putting the kettle on for a cup of tea. She sat in the kitchen, sipping the beverage for a while, enjoying the small slice of peace and quiet that never lasted long, waiting...

Soon enough she began to hear movement coming from Imogen's bedroom, a repetitive, almost rhythmic sound of soft thumps...

Carrie knew that sound all too well.

Abandoning her half drunk cup of tea upon the kitchen table she got to her feet with a heavy sigh and marched out into the hallway, crossing it to the room in question before reaching to throw the door open.

"Imogen!" she said as she swept into the room, interrupting the little girl mid-bounce upon the bed and eliciting a rather enormous gasp from the child who had been caught red-handed, "What do you suppose your dad would have to say if I were to tell him that you've broken a second bed in the space of a fortnight, by _bouncing up and down on it_ like that?"

Imogen simply sat stock still, staring at her mother as the mattress gave one last feeble bounce.

"I don't think he'd be at all happy, do you?" Carrie said, arms folded firmly across her chest as she came to a halt beside the bed.

Imogen chewed her lip in consideration for a moment before recalling:

"Auntie Cleo lets me jump on her bed, Mummy."

"Well that's up to Auntie Cleo, isn't it Sweetheart?" Carrie said, reaching forward to take hold of the child by the arm, coaxing her off the bed and onto her feet. As she eyed the sagging mattress in frustration the muggle reminded her daughter: "We've talked about this, haven't we Imogen? You don't bounce on the bed like that because if you do you'll damage it. I don't care what Auntie Cleo lets you do to her bed, it belongs to her and she can let you do whatever she likes to it. But Daddy and I bought you this bed to sleep in, not jump all over, alright?"

Imogen chewed nonchalantly upon a thumb nail for a moment before wondering:

"Can I have egg and soldiers for breakfast, Mummy?"

Carrie sighed heavily, wondering if the child had been listening to a single word of what she had said.

"I don't think so, poppet." she murmured as she went to pull open the top drawer of the ancient chest of drawers in search of clean knickers and a pair of socks. "We're out of eggs, we'll have to walk to the shops and buy some this morning, won't we?" At the sound of Imogen sucking in a deep breath in order to let out a disappointed huff, she suggested: "We've a whole box of Rice Crispies in the cupboard though. You could have those, couldn't you?"

Imogen flopped back down upon the bed, arms and legs askew, apparently deeply unimpressed.

"I want to go to Nana and Grandad's for breakfast!" she complained as her mother reached to push the drawer closed. "Grandad makes me egg and soldiers every time!"

"I know he does, love. But you can't always have egg and soldiers for breakfast, can you?"

"Why not, Mummy?"

"Just think of all those soldiers in your tummy, Im! They'll start a war if you're not careful! Now then, what are you going to wear today? I ironed your polkadot dresses yesterday morning. Pink or yellow?"

"Yellow!"

"Right then, up you get! Auntie Cleo might come over this afternoon. That'll be fun, won't it?"

It was half past seven when, having sat at the table reading the Daily Prophet whilst Imogen at her breakfast, Carrie retreated into the sitting room to write a shopping list ready for their excursion to the shops later that morning. She could hear Imogen stomping around the hallway, enthralled in one imaginary game or another, and was just scribbling eggs at the top of the list when the fireplace to her left spluttered into life and a head appeared amongst the flames.

"Carrie?"

Carrie turned to see the green-tinged figure of Teddy's head amongst the emerald flames that had leapt up in the empty grate, and she felt rather shocked to see him there. His lunch breaks were short enough that he had little time to do anything besides eat, and it was certainly too early for a break of any kind.

"What's wrong?" she asked, abandoning her notebook and pen and coming to crouch down in front of the fireplace. She felt quite certain that _something_ was wrong, she couldn't imagine he would find the time to floo her otherwise.

"I need a favour, Sweetheart." Teddy explained as a loud banging noise sounded from out in the hallway. Carrie fleetingly glanced over her shoulder towards the source of the noise, only to become distracted when Teddy told her: "It's important."

"What is it?" Carrie asked, leaning closer to the fire, and the wizard's expression grew distinctly concerned as he told her:

"It's Mum, Carrie. She's not showed up for work yet."  
>"She hasn't?"<p>

"No, she was due to be here over an hour ago! All the Auror cadets have been sitting around waiting for her, but she's nowhere to be seen! If Harry finds out he'll do his nut! So I've snuck into her office to floo the house to see what's going on, but nobody's answering."

"You think she and your dad aren't there? At this time of morning?"

"I don't know...I can't imagine where they would have gone, but I shouted for them at the top of my lungs and nobody answered. They can't have still been asleep after that, I'm sure of it!"

"So their either not there or they ignored you."

"Exactly. Carrie, I've seen Harry already this morning, he's utterly snowed under with paperwork and James' latest girlfriend is causing the family all kinds of drama! He's in a foul mood, he really is! I reckon if one of the cadets dares go and knock on his door to ask where Mum is he'll be utterly livid with her. He's already annoyed with her because that witch over in Plymouth escaped capture right under her nose last week!"

"D'you want me go round there, then?" Carrie asked, only for a second, louder crash to sound for the hallway, forcing her to turn to shout: "IMOGEN? WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON OUT THERE?"

"Nothing, Mummy!" came the unnaturally innocent response, and Carrie let out a huff before turning her attention back to the fireplace.

"Would you?" Teddy asked, sounding relieved. "I'd go myself but they'd notice I was gone..."

"I'll go right now." Carrie said, getting briskly to her feet, and he offered her a bright smile.

"Thanks, Sweetheart. You're a star, did you know that?"

"Get back before somebody notices you've been gone!" Carrie told him, turning to head for the door, and as his head disappeared from the fireplace in a roar of emerald flames, she steeled herself for the chaos that she was no doubt about to find in the hallway.

The coat stand that had been set beside the front door had toppled over onto the floor, spilling cloaks, coats and hats all over the floor. In the middle of it all, Imogen was sat, her mother's floral summer hat upon her head, falling over her eyes.

"Give me strength..." Carrie breathed as she strode briskly down the narrow little hallway, reaching to pull the child to her feet. "Get up and get your shoes on!" she snapped. "Quickly now, we're in a hurry! You can tidy up this awful mess when we get home!"

"Are we going to the shops?" Imogen asked as she began to search for her shoes beneath the avalanche of garments.

"No. We're going to Nana and Grandad's house."

Imogen's efforts to locate her shoes instantly increased tenfold.

It was a relatively long walk across town to Remus and Dora's house, and by the time Carrie had half-dragged Imogen all the way there and they arrived the child was complaining bitterly about her aching feet.

"They're soooooore!" the little girl moaned, face scrunched up woefully as they finally reached the front door, but her mother didn't respond, instead she reached to hammer a fist upon the front door. Not waiting long for a response, Carrie dropped into a crouch, reaching to push open the letterbox.

"DORA?" she shouted, giving the door another good knock with her fist for good measure. When her calling was met with silence, she instead called: "It's Carrie!"

As it did whenever she announced herself by name, the front door opened with a click, swinging back on it's hinges.

Imogen made to dash into the hallway, only for Carrie to reach to grab hold of her by the hand.

"Come and sit here on the stairs, Immy love." she murmured as she led the girl into the hallway, pushing the door carefully shut behind them. "Stay there for just a minute, won't you?"

Apparently Imogen had done quite enough misbehaving for one morning, for she obediently went to sit at the bottom of the stairs, leaving Carrie to wander forward down the hallway, glancing into rooms as she went.

Empty sitting room, empty study, empty kitchen...

As she took a couple of idle steps into the kitchen, Carrie's gaze roamed searchingly around the room and she was just musing that it looked utterly untouched from the way she had seen it the precious evening when she noticed a single difference.

Upon the kitchen table lay a familiar looking envelope, the seal of green wax upon it broken open.

Carrie sucked in a deep, nervous breath at the mere sight of it, before turning to head back down the hallway.

"Just wait here, Sweetheart." she murmured to Imogen as she headed quietly up the stairs, hand reaching to smooth the little girl's hair as she went.

At the top of the stairs, Carrie made a beeline for the master bedroom, and, discovering the door closed, she reached to knock softly upon it.

"Dora...? Remus...?" she called, leaning forward until her head came to rest upon the doorframe. "It's Carrie..." Hearing the distinct sound of movement within the muggle drew in a deep breath to call: "Is everything alright? Ted flooed earlier..." she trailed off a little uncertainly, only to hear the sound of footsteps padding across carpet, and quite suddenly the door was pulled open a fraction.

Carrie instantly straightened up.

Dora looked, the muggle thought as she came face to face with the witch peering out at her from around the door, a complete mess. Her entire face was pink and blotchy, her eyes puffy and her usually vibrant hair had grown pale and mousy. Her dark eyes, that so often twinkled with humour, had grown dull and distinctly watery.

For a long moment, Carrie simply stared at her. Then she realised that her mouth was hanging open slightly and she promptly shut it.

"Um..." she mumbled, blinking a little and scolding herself for her lack of composure. "Sorry...I shouldn't really just come barging up here, I know, but Teddy asked me to...to come over and, well..."

"It's fine." Dora said simply, and Carrie very nearly let out a despairing laugh because things surely were pretty much anything except fine.

"Right..." the muggle swallowed the lump in her throat, before explaining: "You're very late for work, that's all..."

Dora's forehead creased into a deep frown and she murmured a little thickly:

"I'm what?"

"Work, Dora! You were due there two hours ago!"

The witch's gaze dropped to the floor as she considered this piece of information, before she reached to press a hand across her eyes, the frown deepening as she murmured:

"Oh...yes. Of course. Work! Bloody hell. Right..." She very nearly shut the door in the muggle's face, but Carrie's hand shot forward to stop her.

"Are you alright?" Carrie asked worriedly. "Is everything okay? It's just...well..."

"No, not really." Dora confessed, offering her daughter-in-law a half-hearted smile which was seemingly the best she could muster. Carrie subconsciously found herself holding her breath in anticipation of what might come next, only for the Auror to sigh dramatically and muttered: "It's that bloody alarm clock, you see. One of these days I'm going to throw it out of the window!"

Carrie consented to offering her a mechanical little laugh before she fixed the Auror with a stare and told her:

"You should tell Teddy about it."

She didn't mean the alarm clock. She was pretty sure that Dora knew she didn't, too...

The witch's face visibly drained of colour, her grip upon the door tightening until her knuckles paled too.

"_You_ certainly shouldn't." she told the muggle, voice suddenly sharp, her moment of slowness apparently gone. Her watery eyes grew distinctly accusing and Carrie swallowed another lump in her throat.

_She thinks I've read the letter_, the muggle realised dismally, and she promptly opened her mouth to insist that she had in actual fact done no such thing when the witch muttered:

"I better get dressed, hadn't I?" And with that, she pushed the door firmly closed.


	3. Great Minds

_Note: Uh...unimpressed with this chapter, to be honest! But...well somebody might enjoy it! For readers of Snatch and Grab – I'm working on it!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

**3: Great Minds**

"I can't do it."

"You don't have a choice."

"But I...I can't do it..."

"You must. You have to."

"B...but..."

"For me. For us. For Teddy and Carrie and for your _granddaughter_."

"Wh...what about you?"

"Don't think about me. Think about work."

"I...I don't care about work, I..."

"Then pretend. Kid yourself. Make yourself care. Keep fighting, Dora, because we're not done yet."

As she stood just inside the sitting room doorway, watching rather numbly as Remus bundled Dora into the fireplace, holding out the pot of floo powder to her expectantly, Carrie felt so weighed down by dread that she was forced to lean sideways against the wall to stop herself from sliding down to the floor.

For a long moment, Dora simply stood, staring blankly at the pot of dusty powder, before she straightened up considerably, reaching to scoop up a generous handful of the powder into one hand.

"_Bed rest_." Carrie heard her instruct firmly in an undertone, reaching with her free hand to straighten the werewolf's dressing gown. "Stay in bed! Don't over-exert yourself! Drink lots of water...don't get dehydrated and...and I'll come back and make you lunch, alright?"

"If you say so." the werewolf murmured, replacing the pot upon the mantlepiece.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The couple gazed at one another steadily for a long moment, and the witch's expression grew so terribly bleak again that Carrie thought she might start to cry. Apparently Remus thought so to because he whispered:

"No tears, Dora."

"No..." the witch agreed with a sniff, blinking her eyes rapidly. "No tears. No weakness."

"Precisely." Remus murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "That's probably my job."

The Auror let out a rather pained chuckle, lunging forward to throw her arms around him. He allowed her the briefest of embraces before prising her arms from his middle and insisting:

"Go on, go!"

"Look after yourself, Remus, I mean it..."

"Go!"

As Dora disappeared in a burst of emerald flames, Carrie felt her unease increase tenfold as Remus turned to regard her, his expression distinctly uncertain.

He looked old.

Carrie had never really thought about it much before. Of course he'd always looked older than he actually was, there had always been telltale signs of premature ageing, especially when he was stood beside Dora who had a habit of looking young and distinctly unblemished. But his ageing had suddenly hit Carrie, like a boulder to the chest.

Dora aged sporadically. As if she'd wake up one morning, look at herself in the mirror and think: _Who am I kidding now?_ And that would be it. She'd alter herself a bit more, make the skin at her eyes crinkle into subtle crows' feet, have the skin at her neck sag ever so slightly. And then she would remain that way for months, perhaps even years, before another sign of ageing would suddenly appear out of nowhere. Even when the alterations were small, they came so suddenly that Carrie always felt shocked by them.

But that had nothing on how she felt just then, gazing at Remus as he stood before her, his face pale and his hair grey and his body thin and wasting beneath the thick material of his dressing gown. Carrie felt frightened by it, this diminished shell of her Guardian Angel, this weakened fearless wonder so ravaged by time and Merlin only knew what else...

Werewolf and muggle stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity, before Carrie finally suggested:

"I um...I could...I could make you some breakfast. If you like."

He smiled then, barely, and made towards her, as if her words had spurred him into action.

"No thank you," he told her as he made to slip past her into the hallway. "I'm not terribly hungry."

"A...a cup of tea then, perhaps?"

"I'll do it. Would you like one?"

As she watched him stride down the hallway towards the kitchen, causing Imogen to leap to her feet at the bottom of the stairs and skip noisily after him, Carrie leant further back against the wall as she murmured:

"Please."

After a while she wandered down the hallway after them and leant against the doorframe there instead, listening numbly to Imogen's incessant chattering as her grandfather went about making tea.

"...and then Crazy Auntie Cleo is going to come round and we are going to go to the park!"

"Are you really? Goodness! That sounds like an awful lot of fun!"

"And then...and then when Daddy comes home we are going to have FISH AND CHIPS FOR DINNER!"

"Fish and chips?"

"Yes, Grandad!"

"My word, you are a lucky girl, aren't you? What sort of fish are you going to have? Goldfish, perhaps?"

"N-o! Silly Grandad! You don't eat GOLDFISH!"

"Do you not?"

"No!"

"Well I don't see why not. Nana Dora's had her eye on the ones in next door's fish pond! I thought they looked rather yummy..."

"No, Grandad! No! You can't eat goldfish!"

"Why ever not, Imogen?"

"Because! That's just silly!"

"What's silly about it? I tell you what, we'll have goldfish and mashed potato for dinner when you come round on Sunday. How does that sound?"

"No-oo!"

"No?"

"No! Silly, silly Grandad!"

Carrie watched Remus set the two steaming mugs down upon the table, and as he picked up the abandoned letter from St. Mungo's he eyed it for a moment with pursed lips, before shoving it into the pocket of his dressing gown, rounding on his granddaughter with a broad grin.

"If not we could have goldfish on toast!" he exclaimed, leaning to snatch the giggling child up into his arms, and Carrie very nearly had to turn away from them in despair as Imogen let out a shriek of laughter before burying her face in her grandfather's shoulder as he set about listing a vast variety of food that might very well accompany goldfish spectacularly. By the time Carrie had steeled herself enough to join them at the table, Imogen was in such hysterics, sat upon Remus' lap at the table, that she seemed quite unable to do anything much beside cling to his dressing gown and shake with laughter.

"Goodness me, there won't be any goldfish left!" the muggle observed as she dropped down into the chair opposite them, reaching to pull a mug of tea towards her. She was about to suggest Imogen go play out in the garden, or some other distraction, only when she looked across the table she suddenly felt as if she could do no such thing.

Remus' grip around the little girl's middle was tight, resolute, a giggling shield to hide behind as his daughter-in-law sat, waiting for some sort of explanation, an answer.

She'd never get one whilst Imogen was sat there, fidgeting and fiddling with the cord of his dressing gown, and he knew it, too.

Carrie wasn't quite sure she had the heart to shatter his rather feeble defences. Not when he was putting up such a battle to keep them, laughing and blowing raspberries upon the squirming child's arm.

"There's a couple of weeks left, isn't there?" he said after while, once Imogen had calmed down a little, "Until Ted qualifies, I mean."

"About that, yes." Carrie agreed, shifting rather uncomfortably in her seat. "If he passes first time, that is."

Remus reached for his tea, eyebrow raised as he recalled:

"A lot of people don't, you know. Dora nearly didn't."

"Really?"

"She almost failed Stealth and Tracking."

Usually this recollection might have made Carrie snigger, but she wasn't in the mood.

"Teddy's done alright in that so far, he says."

"So I hear. Though Dora tells me she and Ron failed him on the practice Ward Theory exam last week."

"Good thing it was just a practice, then."

Readjusting his arms around Imogen's middle as the child busied herself with tying knots in her shoelaces, Remus leant forwards in his chair, his gaze suddenly quite piercing.

"There's not much time left for practicing now though." he pointed out as Carrie found herself leaning backwards a little. "It's going to be a difficult couple of weeks for him, you know."

"Yes, it is."

"Very stressful."

"Yes."

"And very important. He needs to qualify first time, doesn't he?"

"Yes..."

"Dora and I can't afford another month of this, Carrie. I hate to point it out, but it's true..."

Carrie felt as if her heart had suddenly gone dead in her chest.

"Wh...what?" she whispered, eyes wide in horror. "What do you mean?"

She had no idea what he was talking about, the state of her and Teddy's finances had absolutely nothing to do with Remus or Dora. There had been talks, of course, over past year or so, talks of borrowing a few galleons each month until things got better, but she and Teddy had quickly dismissed the idea. After all, Remus and Dora had precious enough money saved away themselves...

Remus' chalky complexion grew suddenly redder, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again.

"Immy, Sweetheart," Carrie said, still staring at her father-in-law with eyes as wide as snitches. "Be a good girl, won't you, and go and play in the garden? Practice that skipping of yours so you can show Auntie Cleo later."

She barely managed to contain her fury as Imogen slipped down from Remus' lap and bounded over towards the back door. It had barely swung shut behind the girl a moment later when Carrie's hands had balled into tight fists and she had demanded to know:  
>"How long?"<p>

Remus simply sighed.

"How long has this been going on behind my back?" Carrie insisted, and the werewolf frowned deeply as he admitted:

"Six...seven months, I suppose...Dora and I assumed you knew all about it..."

"HOW MUCH?"

"It's not really important, Carrie. It was our idea to begin with..."

"I'm going to bloody kill him! When he gets home this evening, I swear...! How much has he borrowed, Remus? Tell me, for Merlin's sake!"

"I...don't really know for sure..."

"Yes you do! You keep an eye on your gold like a bloody niffler! You know exactly how much...it's...it's a lot, isn't it? We've emptied your bloody vault, haven't we?"

"No, of course you haven't. I was simply pointing out that...that the sooner Teddy qualifies the sooner things will get better for all of us. Don't be furious with him, Carrie. We've lied through our teeth about how much we've got saved for months. He has no clue how much we really have. It's not his fault..."

"Oh Merlin..."

"Listen, Carrie. You mustn't tell Teddy about the money...or about anything _else_ that might distract or worry him. He needs to be very focused to pass those exams."

Carrie reached to clamp a hand across her eyes, screwing them shut despairingly as she whispered:

"You want me to lie to him? You...you want me to look your son in the eye and tell him...tell him you're not...you're not sick and...and you're not broke..."

"I'm not broke, Carrie. I'm barely even sick...I'm..."

"You're what?"

"I'm precarious."

Carrie's hand dropped heavily down upon the table and she positively glowered at him.

"I'm not lying to Teddy about anything! Now...now you all might've forgotten what you and Dora always used to tell Teddy about the importance of being honest! But I haven't! I don't care what...what you think is best for him, if he finds out later that we've all been deceiving him he'll be horrified! He'll be furious with you when he finds out about the money, and he will! You know he will, it's only a matter of time! And he'll find out you're sick, too! He already suspects it! Now if you want him to resent you for keeping him in the dark, that's up to you! But I won't have him feel like that about me!"

"Carrie..."

"You wouldn't hide all of this from Dora, would you? If it were you?"

At this exclamation, Remus let out a strained chuckle that made Carrie's stomach twist into knots, and he leant forward, elbows coming to rest upon the table.

"I'd hide it all from Dora if I could, Carrie." he said, voice trailing off despairingly as he murmured: "I'd not care if she hated me for it in the end, either."

"I don't believe you." Carrie sniffed, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes, and he sighed heavily and mumbled:

"No, neither did she." He reached to rub a weary hand across his forehead, frowning deeply. "I think..." he decided slowly, frown deepening considerably, "I think perhaps I might go back to bed." He carefully pushed back his chair and as he got stiffly to his feet he admitted: "I expect I'll need plenty of rest in time for this evening."

"What's happening this evening?"

"I'm going to have to tell Teddy the truth, if you insist. Bring him over straight from work. Don't bring Imogen, if you can help it. Merlin help us if he takes it too badly."

"Should he?" Carrie asked, rising from her own chair, and when he simply shook his head and shuffled out into the hallway she felt as if she might burst into tears.

She spent a couple of minutes fussing about the kitchen, clearing away the washing up from the draining board and wiping the surfaces over with a cloth, before simply standing, not quite sure what to do with herself. After a while of staring blankly around at her surroundings she went to the sink to pour a tall glass of water. She went slowly to the stairs and crept carefully up them and across the landing to the door, not bothering to knock this time around as she slipped inside. She didn't say a word to the wizard lying flat upon the bed as he gazed up at the ceiling, indeed she didn't quite know what one ought say at a time like this, so instead she simply set the glass of water down upon the bedside table and leant down to peck him on the cheek, whispering:

"I'll see you later, then."

Remus didn't move a muscle.

By the time she had walked Imogen back across town, stopping off at the shops to pick up the few things that she could recall from the shopping list she had been writing that morning, Carrie felt rather as if all she wanted to do herself was to have a quiet lie down.

And so it was that when she went to answer the door to her friend Cleo a short while after she had arrived home, Carrie felt absolutely no inclination at all to take Imogen on an outing to the park. She felt much too emotionally drained and nervous about the coming evening.

"Thank goodness you're here," she muttered to Cleo as she stepped aside to let the dark haired woman inside, "I need a favour, Cleo, I'm desperate."

Cleopatra Clancy wiped her heavy boots upon the mat, offering Carrie a raised eyebrow.

"What's up?" she asked, reaching to push a stray strand of short hair behind her ear, but before Carrie could say a word a blur of yellow shot down the hallway towards them, with a shriek of:

"AUNTIE CLEO!"

"Alright, kid?" Cleo greeted as Imogen came to a skidding halt in front of her, hopping from side to side in excitement.

"Would you take her to the park? Or...or anywhere, I don't care where...keep her until dinner if you can..." Carrie mumbled in an undertone, hugging her arms tightly around herself. "I need a bit of time...just to myself...without her..."

"Trouble in paradise, is it?" Cleo asked, puffing her cheeks in exasperation, and upon seeing the bleak expression upon Carrie's face she announced: "Alright, kid! Get your shoes on before I go to the park without you!"

"Thank you." Carrie sighed, reaching to rake a hand through her hair, and when Cleo folded her arms firmly across her chest, staring expectantly she consented to explaining: "It's Ted's father, Cleo. He's sick...very sick, I think...and Ted doesn't know yet, we're going round this evening to talk about it..."

"Crap!" Cleo said, causing Imogen to freeze, turning to stare up at her in surprise. "That's not good..." When she noticed Imogen staring she took a long moment to realise her blunder and hurriedly amended: "I said cap! Where's your cap, or hat or whatever, kid? The sun'll get in your eyes!"

"You're a life saver." Carrie muttered as Imogen dashed off to her bedroom to locate a hat of some description, but Cleo simply shrugged.

"Is it serious, then?" she asked, and Carrie pursed her lips together fretfully and told her:

"It seems like it, yes."

"What, as in _terminally_ serious?"

"Cleo...!"

"I'm just asking! Because, you know, if it is...well...well if you and Ted need some time or whatever you can dump the kid with me for a while. She can sleep on my sofa or something, if Craig isn't staying over."

"Thanks...is Craig still _staying over_, then?"

"Sometimes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're...sometimes together and sometimes not. It depends."

"On?"

"On if he fancies a shag or not."

Carrie groaned, reaching to press a hand to her eyes and she muttered:

"Oh Cleo...!"

"Oh Carrie!" Cleo retorted, grinning wickedly. "Shut up will you? I couldn't do what you do, you know. The love thing and the marriage and kid thing...it's not me, you know it isn't."

"So what are you going to do?" Carrie asked, nose wrinkling distastefully. "Go along sleeping with Craig when you fancy it until you get bored and move on to some other random guy?"

As Imogen came bounding back down the hallway, Cleo gave an infuriating shrug.

"Something like that." she said, and Carrie told her:

"Well that's really sad, Cleo. Because Craig isn't like the ones before him, you know."

"I know." Cleo agreed, suddenly quiet, and Carrie felt compelled to admit:

"I think he actually loves you."

At the sound of the dreaded L word, Cleo promptly muttered:

"Okay, you can shut up now. C'mon, kid! Let's go!"

Carrie spent the rest of the day waiting.

It was agonizing.

She quickly gave up on trying to persuade herself that things were not as bad as they seemed, that Remus wouldn't have anything too dreadful to say.

She almost began to wish she'd done the indecent thing and read the letter when she'd had the chance.

And then Teddy had come home.

Carrie had listened to the door to the flat opening as she sat in the sitting room, doodling aimlessly in the margin of her shopping list, watched him appear in the doorway, neck-brace free and smiling broadly as he observed:

"Aha, there you are! Where's my kiss, then?"

Carrie made to stand, only for him to hurry into the room, insisting:

"No, don't move! Stay there. Where's Imogen?"

"Cleo's got her for a while..." Carrie began to explain as he sunk down onto the sagging seat beside her, and upon hearing they were alone he sucked in a deep breath, reaching to slide her arms around her, pulling her close.  
>"Well then...!" he breathed, dark eyes twinkling rather suggestively, but she only allowed him the briefest of kisses before she told him:<br>"I asked Cleo to watch her for the day because we need to go and see your parents."

"We do?"

"Yes...it's important."

"It is?"

"Yes...your...your dad has...has some news for us..."

"Would it have to do with why Mum was so late this morning?"

"I...think that's likely, love, yes. Did she sneak in okay in the end?"

"Nope, Harry caught her red handed. Went utterly berserk."

"Oh dear..."

"I don't know what excuse she gave, but he wasn't impressed."

_She lied, then,_ Carrie thought dully. She was growing quite tired of so much lying. But then again perhaps it was better than what was going to come next. Perhaps she ought enjoy being ignorant whilst she still could, whilst Remus' illness was blissfully nameless...

Apparently, she and Teddy discovered half an hour later, it did have a name.

"Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis."

As they sat, hand in hand upon the sofa in Remus and Dora's living room, staring rather blankly at the werewolf as he sat in armchair opposite the fire, Carrie felt Teddy lean forward a little in his chair as he asked:  
>"Lycanthropic what?"<p>

"Cerebral Moriosis." Remus repeated, Dora's hand tightening upon his shoulder. "It's a...an infection of the brain tissue arising from an excess of...of certain chemicals found in werewolves' blood."

"Brain...brain tissue?"

"Yes, it...it causes it to decay, in a manner of speaking."

There was a very long silence. Carrie felt as if she had been winded. Her grip upon Teddy's hand tightened, only for him to draw in a deep breath and murmur:

"Ok...and how do you cure it?"

There was an even longer pause as Remus' gaze dropped to his lap and Dora reached to slide her arm around his neck, fingers raking through his hair before she explained:

"Well...well that's the thing, Teddy Sweetheart. It's...it's Lycanthropic, so...well..." she trailed off into silence, chewing her lip in consideration before trying again. "Nobody's come up with any readily available medicine for it yet, love. It's...a rare illness..."

"It only happens to werewolves, so nobody gives a toss." Teddy summarized bitterly, beginning to sound agitated, and Dora hastily insisted:

"No, no it's not like that, love. Not at all...there is...there is something they've been working on but...but Mungo's don't have access to it, so...so we're just going to have to wait and see. Dad might just...well he might just fight off the infection on his own! Right now he's just tired and...and he's not blacking out _too_ often, so..."

"So we just...just sit around here and...and wait to see if...if his brain bloody rots or something?" Teddy cried, grip upon Carrie's hand so tight that it was painful, and as Remus leant to bury his face in his hands, Carrie hissed:

"Ted, don't say that!"

"But...but it's true!" Teddy complained, his hair growing steadily duller by the second. "What...what if he doesn't just get better by himself? He'll...he'll...won't he, Mum? He'll...!"

"If he doesn't get better before it spreads too far, then yes." Dora agreed, tears beginning to stream steadily down her cheeks. "It'll kill him one way or another..."

"There must be something!" Teddy insisted desperately, wrenching his arm free from Carrie so that he could stand up and begin to pace up and down the room. "You said somebody was working on something to help! We...we'll get hold of...of that! Who's got it?"

"It's a private clinic down in Cornwall." Dora half-whispered, her face now buried dismally in Remus' hair as the werewolf simply sat motionless in his seat. "It's...exorbitantly expensive."

"So?" Teddy cried, rounding on her rather accusingly. "You've some savings built up, haven't you?"

Again, silence.

Carrie leant to bury her face in her hands, too.

"What?" Teddy asked, eyes widening in alarm. "What is it?"

"There aren't really any savings, Ted." Remus mumbled into his hands. "We've pretty much spent all of them..."

"On what?"

"On you. We...might not have been entirely honest about how much we had in the vault..."

Teddy's face grew ashen white and he stumbled backwards a little, hand across his mouth.

"Sweet Merlin..." he whimpered, staring at his parents, utterly mortified. "No, I...I don't...I don't believe..."

Carrie dared to look up to see Dora crumple against the chair, head bowed miserably, and so the muggle got hurriedly to her feet, rushing over to envelope Teddy in her arms.

"Shh." she whispered to him as he slumped against her so heavily that it made her stumble. "It's...it's going to be alright, Ted. It...it is, it really is..." She didn't manage to mumble more than that because she found she was sobbing into his robes. They clung to one another, trying to squash the overwhelming sense of despair and by the time they had calmed down enough to look round at his parents again they found Dora perched upon the arm of the chair, Remus' head leaning against her side as he frowned deeply.

"You'll feel better, once you sleep." Dora was whispering, her hand carefully smoothing the hair back from his forehead. "It'll stop hurting, the headaches will stop..."

"Mm..."

"Too much drama, that's all. You go to bed and I'll make you some dinner. I'll fix everything, my love. I promise."

"Mm."

Carrie and Teddy had watched numbly as she had helped Remus up onto his feet and, after a rather vague and surprisingly mundane goodnight, she led him by the hand out into the hallway and up the stairs.

Teddy promptly went to collapse down upon the sofa, and Carrie promptly followed him.

"Oh Merlin..." Teddy whispered, shaking head head and sighing heavily. "I...I wish...I wish I hadn't gotten angry..."

"I'm sure they understand." Carrie assured him quietly, hugging his arms to her chest, her head leant against his shoulder.

"Dad shouldn't have to...he's...he's...oh Merlin, Carrie, he could be dying!"

Carrie didn't know what to say to this. It made her feel rather faint.

Despite how grim her thoughts had grown over the course of the day, she'd never truly believed it as a possibility, as an idea.

Remus dying.

It was an impossible notion, if truth be told. Carrie couldn't imagine life without him in it. She couldn't imagine coming round and not finding him sat upon the sofa or in the kitchen reading his newspaper, or helping her cook Sunday dinner. She couldn't imagine Imogen not sitting upon his lap at the table, the two of them talking about such nonsense that it made her chuckle. She couldn't think of Remus not being there to give Teddy advice, huddling together around the cramped kitchen table back at the flat, counting out coins and planning out the future, putting everybody's mind at ease. She certainly couldn't imagine Dora without Remus. The two of them came as a pair as far as Carrie was concerned, you certainly couldn't have one without the other...

Dora would probably waste away herself, given the chance. That was what happened, Carrie thought dismally, to people with broken hearts. It killed them quicker than sickness could. It didn't matter how strong they were.

"I wish...I wish there was some medicine." Teddy whispered dismally, his head coming to rest against hers. "I wish...I wish I hadn't been so...so stupid and...and borrowed money from them! I wish we could...could buy something to...to help him get better..." he trailed off for a moment before giving a soft snort and muttering: "I wish I could qualify earlier. I wish I could win the European Duelling Championships and...and have all that money to...to buy medicine with..."

"That would be a lot of money." Carrie agreed, sighing wistfully at such a daydream.

Because of course that was all it was, a desperate, desperate daydream.

Or at least it was for some.

For after a while sat upon the sofa, huddled together as they were, suffocated by thoughts and wishes, Carrie and Teddy found themselves drifting off into an uneasy sleep. And when they woke with a start it had grown dark outside and Carrie felt panic as she hastily disentangled herself from Teddy's arms.

"Cleo and Imogen!" she cried, turning to shake Teddy awake. "They'll be wondering where we are!"

And Teddy had scrambled to his feet and gone to fetch his shoes, and Carrie had rushed searchingly towards the kitchen in order to bid Dora goodnight...

The kitchen was empty. Carrie felt an odd sense of de ja vu as she stepped hesitantly into the dim room, eyes roaming around searchingly. As they had done that morning her eyes came to rest upon the table where the dreaded letter had lain...

There now, instead, was a brightly coloured sheet of parchment with elaborate lettering at it's top, another smaller piece of paper attached to it's side with a paperclip.

Carrie wandered forward to squint down at it. A note had been scrawled on the little piece of paper.

_I think you're mental_, it read. _You've got charge of the cadets for the next two weeks. When you'll find time to train yourself is completely beyond me. But then again, it's your funeral._

The brightly coloured parchment, Carrie discovered, was a rather official looking application form.

_The British National Duelling Team_.

Carrie gazed down at the neatly filled out boxes and the familiar loopy signature at the bottom of the page.

_I'd not join for all the gold in Gringott's!_

And yet there, the back door left open and a few dotted balls of light humming softly as they floated serenely around in the dark evening air, stood Dora out upon the lawn, her back to the house and her wand held out in front of her.

Carrie crept to the door and watched silently as the Auror took a careful, precise step forward, drawing her arm up and back, before bringing the wand slashing down through the air. Then she stepped backwards, whipping the wand back upwards again. Stringing a few more precise movements together the witch began to move her way slowly back and forth across the grass, a fluid, deadly dance of steps and wand movements, growing gradually more complex, whispering to herself as she went.

_Two, three, block. One two, attack, one two three block. One two three, block. One two, attack...step left, block...step right..._

It was a long shot. It had to be. It was foolish and unrealistic and downright unreasonable.

_Yeah well, I'm not that good..._

Desperation. The whole scene was flooded with it. Carrie felt rather as if her heart might shrivel up at the sight of it as Dora continued to move around the garden, movements growing steadily faster and faster until her wand blurred and her feet sprung this way and that, faster and faster, desperate and determined, utterly focused...

Carrie stepped carefully out onto the patio, only to flinch when the Auror promptly spun around to face her, wand aimed directly at her chest. For a long moment they simply stared at one another, the witch's face flushing pink as if ashamed to have been caught as she gingerly lowered her wand.

"I'd definitely bet on you now." the muggle said.


	4. The British National Duelling Team

_Note: We have mention of this chapter of the Phoenix Day Parade, a notion introduced in Meet the Order of the Phoenix. For anybody unfamiliar with it, it is a public event held each year on Dumbledore's birthday in which the Order march through Hogsmeade and the grounds of Hogwarts before holding a remembrance service beside Dumbledore's tomb. After the war, to keep herself occupied, Molly Weasley made each Order member a uniform consisting of a black velvet cloak lined in bright orange silk, and a black armband decorated by an embroidered phoenix. This is usually accompanied by other black attire and, in Dora's case, flaming orange hair._

_This is a rather random addition to this story, but I thought it might flesh things out a bit! I hope somebody out there enjoys it! :-)_

_And no, I haven't forgotten Snatch and Grab, I'm halfway through the next chapter. It's a tricky one with a lot of dialogue in it!_

_This chapter's alternative title is: Moody's Minions. :-)_

**4: The British National Duelling Team**

As a family they quickly slipped into a new routine.

Carrie was never quite sure precisely how it became so clearly planned, after all they never really took the time to sit down together to talk about it.

Teddy's alarm still woke Carrie at five every morning, but instead of staying in bed she rose with him and dragged Imogen out of bed, too. Once he had gone to work she would walk Imogen over to Remus and Dora's house, let herself inside without any invitation, and start making herself useful, banishing Imogen with a toy or two into the sitting room whilst she cleared away whatever Dora had abandoned from breakfast, cleaning the kitchen until it gleamed before starting on the hallway or whatever else looked remotely untidy. She helped Imogen feed Remus and Dora's owls, Godric and Helga, at midday and stuck her head around the bedroom door to check on Remus every half an hour or so. When she had first appeared to clear away the breakfast tray that Dora had left upon his bedside table, Remus had been somewhat surprised to see her.

"Go home, Carrie." the werewolf had mumbled sleepily as he peered up at her through bleary eyes. "Take Immy to the shops or go and visit your aunt or something. Don't sit around fussing over me."

Carrie hadn't dignified this request with an answer.

At one o'clock on the dot every afternoon the fireplace in the sitting room would roar into life, signalling Dora's arrival back from the Ministry.

On the first day, for once in her life the Auror had seemed as surprised as her husband to find Carrie in the house. But she hadn't bothered to comment. Instead she had smiled appreciatively at the gleaming state of the kitchen, before setting about making the most of her hour-long lunch break.

She certainly had it down to a fine art.

First of all she would make both herself and Remus lunch, a task that it immediately became clear to Carrie she was exceptionally possessive over.

"Can I help?"

"No thanks."

"Shall I fetch the butter from the fridge?"

"No."

"Would you like me to put the kettle on?"

"No. I'll do it."

Carrie would watch her shove a hastily made sandwich into a paper bag, leaving it in her work satchel for a time more appropriate for her to eat lunch than her _lunch hour_. Carrie had absolutely no idea what time this was, or if the Auror bothered to eat lunch at all. Then she would levitate the tray of food upstairs, and ten minutes later the witch would reappear in the hallway, changed out of her work clothes and hastily pulling a pair of trainers onto her feet. She'd disappear out of the front door without a word and return at precisely 1:40, red-faced and breathless having run full pelt around the block twice. Then she would disappear back upstairs again, reappearing with just a couple of minutes to spare before the hour was up, mousey hair and face a little damp from a brief splash in the bathroom sink, back in her work clothes, disappearing into the floo with barely a word.

Remus usually ventured downstairs for a few hours, once Dora had gone, but he did very little besides sit in the kitchen or the sitting room, eying Carrie rather disapprovingly as she went about chores. Sometimes he would go out into the garden with Imogen and play catch with the old Quaffle that Carrie could recall playing with when she and Teddy had been young, or sometimes he would play soft music upon the wireless whilst Imogen sat on his lap, babbling mindlessly at him until it all became too much and he dosed off to sleep.

Sometimes he wandered around looking for chores to do, and Carrie thought he would probably be quite indignant with her for doing them all for him, were being indignant not such a tiresome business. It seemed to Carrie that he would develop headaches more quickly than being overwhelmed by boredom, and so he rarely grew disgruntled enough to complain at her interference.

Nevertheless she did her best to distract him from his inactivity, just in case.

"Tell me what it was like," she'd say as she dusted the mantlepiece, his gaze staring at the back of her head as he sat in the armchair, "your first day at Hogwarts." And then: "What House do you suppose Immy will be in? Will she be a Gryffindor like you and Ted, or a Hufflepuff like Dora?"

They talked about anything and everything other than their current circumstances, though in truth Remus was far less chatty than Carrie was accustomed to. She babbled at him anyway, almost as mindlessly as Imogen, doing her best to be forever bright and cheerful like Dora always was when she set eyes upon him, desperate to keep his spirits high.

Carrie didn't think it was working. It certainly wasn't working on her, anyway. Whenever he disappeared back up to bed she'd often feel like weeping.

Dora wept most evenings, Carrie suspected, though she never saw the witch do so first hand. It was startlingly obvious, though. One only had to glance at her to see it.

The Deputy Head of Aurors would arrive home at around eight o'clock each evening, often with her son in tow, and would immediately begin cooking dinner. Remus came downstairs to help her and for a little while they seemed quite normal and cheery, talking about her day at work, joking and laughing as if all were well, until the whole charade tired him and he would retreat to the sitting room. Carrie and Imogen, and Teddy if he were back, would stay for dinner. They had never asked to, Dora simply seemed suddenly accustomed to cooking for five. They'd sit around the kitchen table together, as if it were a Sunday, and talk about Teddy's fast approaching exams, Cleo's love life and Dora's ongoing battle to keep fellow Auror Jasmine Wickes from being suspended from work by the Wizengamot. All five of them would make quick work of tidying away after eating, then Carrie and Teddy would take Imogen home at long last, Remus would, from what Carrie could tell, go to bed, and Dora would slip out into the garden.

The Auror stayed out there for a couple of hours, Remus reported to Carrie one afternoon, come rain or shine, practicing countless wand gestures and steps, and would wander up to the bedroom at around midnight, flopping down onto the bed and sleeping somewhat fitfully before getting up the next day to do it all again.

Back at Carrie and Teddy's flat things began to grow very untidy, though neither Carrie nor Teddy found themselves with much time to do any cleaning. The days wore on and on until one Friday, when Carrie arrived at Remus and Dora's house to discover that Dora had a day off.

That was what she called it, anyway.

Having left Imogen to bound up the stairs to poke her head around Remus' door, as usual Carrie made a beeline for the kitchen, only for to hear a voice bellowing rather furiously out in the garden, making the muggle jump.

"Get up! Get up!"

"I can't. I...I'm done..."

"You're done?"

"Yeah...I think so..."

"You think you're done?"

"Yeah..."

"Well you don't get to say when you're done! Because I'm not bloody done with you yet! Now GET UP!"

Carrie rushed over to the open back door just in time to spot Dora lying sprawled upon the grass, gazing up at the man stood before her, entirely breathless.

Carrie recognised the man as Auror Robert Wilde, a bear of a man with curly black hair and a stubbly chin, whom the muggle had first come across several years earlier when she had visited the Ministry. Trained along with Dora by Alastor Moody around three decades earlier, he and Dora were close friends and had dated for a short time back in their youth. Carrie had only met him on a few brief occasions, and despite his appearance he had seemed to be something of a gentle giant.

Carrie felt quite shocked, therefore, when Robert promptly leant down to grasp hold of the front of Dora's robes, yanking her back up onto her feet, causing the witch to sway precariously as she struggled to plant herself firmly upon the ground.  
>"What's going on?" Carrie called to them, utterly bemused by the scene, and she felt more confused than ever when Dora called:<p>

"Nothing much..." She was cut off abruptly when Robert slammed an abrupt fist into her stomach, knocking the wind straight out of her and leaving her to crumple to the ground again like a rag doll.

"That was crap, Tonks." Robert informed his colleague frankly, before turning to offer the shocked muggle in the doorway a cheerful: "Alright, Carrie?"

Carrie simply stared at him, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"I wasn't ready!" Dora moaned, clutching a hand to her stomach as she rolled onto her side.

"Oh, well then!" Robert retorted, folding his arms impatiently across his chest. "That makes it alright, doesn't it?"

"Come back, Mad-Eye!" Dora grumbled as she heaved herself slowly back onto her feet. "All is forgiven!"

"Do you think maybe I ought...take Imogen home?" Carrie called rather uncertainly as Dora stumbled back a few steps in order to put a bit of distance between herself and Robert's fists. Carrie didn't care to imagine Imogen wandering out to find her grandmother being casually beaten black and blue on the back lawn.

"Nah, you're alright love." Dora assured her, managing to shoot her a weak grin. "We're stopping in a minute."

"No we're not."

"Piss off, Robert. Go on then, I'm ready."

Carrie winced in anticipation as Robert drew back an arm, hand balling into a tight fist, before he half-leapt forwards, thrusting it forwards and striking the witch square in the gut...

Dora's stomach visibly swelled, a sudden cushion of materialising fat that softened the blow, leaving her to stagger backwards a little, face contorted rather painfully, before her torso suddenly shrunk again as Robert withdrew his arm, his expression visibly stunned. As the witch doubled over with a groan of pain, he abruptly threw his head back and laughed.

"Bloody hell!" he laughed as Dora gritted her teeth a little and straightened up again. "You're grotesque!"

"But I'm still standing." Dora puffed, expression an odd mixture of pain and triumph.

"It's ingenious!" Robert declared, reaching to slap a hand down upon her shoulder as Carrie looked on, still bemused. "We'll have to try with spells next. It'll be much harder. But if you get this, Tonks, it'll be bloody brilliant! Nobody'll see it coming, they'll think they've got you good when they see you haven't shielding and then...BANG!"

"Exactly."

"You know," Robert said, hand resting upon the witch's arm, "none of the others would come up with tactics as mad as this. Even if they could morph, I mean."

"Yeah, well," Dora muttered, at last straightening up entirely. "It's not called a _Mad_-Eye education for nothing, you know."

"That's a duelling tactic?" Carrie called, utterly stunned by the notion as she took a few steps forward out onto the patio, and the two Aurors turned to look at her, rather as if they had forgotten she was there. "Isn't it a bit risky? Using yourself as a human shield?"

"It'll be fine," Robert shrugged rather carelessly, "just as long as she doesn't burst an intestine. Or do it against the wrong sort of spell..."

"Are you out of your mind?" Carrie asked Dora, folding her arms firmly across her chest. "What's wrong with a shielding charm, for goodness sake?"

"It's predictable!" Robert said, rather as if he thought Carrie were a bit dim to ask such a thing, and Carrie reached to run a rather frustrated hand through her hair.

"_Bloody Aurors_..." she muttered, and to her irritation Robert threw back his head and laughed loudly.

"Shut up, Robert." Dora instructed, staggering over to collapse down into a chair upon the patio. "It was just an experiment, that's all."

"You've ripped your blouse at the back." Robert informed her as he wandered after her.

"I know."

"I can see your bra."

Carrie waited for Dora to spring to her feet in embarrassment, but to her surprise the witch merely slumped further back in the chair and repeated:

"I know."

Robert smirked.

"D'you want a glass of water?" he asked her, heading for the kitchen, reaching to jab a finger at the bare skin at her back to make her squirm.

"Nah, you're alright." she muttered, shooting him a suitably indignant look. "Sod off back to the Ministry and tell Jasmine I'll kick her arse if she isn't here at noon."

"Training together, are you?"

"Mm...we thought we'd better sort out some tactics for the preliminaries."

"We've never had a Deputy represent us before, you know. They've never enough time for it." Robert recalled as he came to a halt beside Carrie at the doorway. "Make that Advanced Tactician certification of yours count, won't you?"

Dora gave an unimpressed snort.

"Advanced Tactician...! My granddaughter could pass that exam! Me being a Deputy's going to mean bugger all, Robert. It just makes me...older...slower..."

"More _experienced_." Robert corrected stubbornly. "Besides, you have something that nobody else will have."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You and I are the only ones left, Tonks. We're the last of Moody's Minions! That man left a mark on us! _Use it_. It's like a Dark Mark to Aurors in other teams, you know. They've all heard of Alastor Moody, I heard they give talks about him over in Germany. Everybody knows you didn't mess with him! And you don't mess with his bloody protegee, either!"

Dora sighed heavily, reaching to bury her face in her hands.

"Yeah, well this whole business would have Mad-Eye turning in his grave." she muttered bitterly. "He'd never have stood for it. He'd rather have seen me sacked than end up doing this."

Robert's face grew rather pained as he gazed over at her, frowning deeply.

"Then why are you doing it?" he asked, but the witch merely shook her head. Muttering rather bemusedly under his breath, Robert disappeared into the house, headed for the floo, and Carrie went to drop down into a seat beside Dora, whose fingers were beginning to tug at her hair in frustration.

"He doesn't know why you volunteered." the muggle observed quietly are a few minutes of bleak silence, and as she let her hands fall down into her lap, Dora shook her head.

"No...none of them do. They have no idea what's going on. I've always been so against the whole thing, they barely utter a word about it within earshot of me these days, I detest it so much! But now of course I've volunteered anyway...I think it's caused a scandal...!" The witch gave a rather dark chuckle and Carrie consented to joining in, albeit feebly.

"They don't know about Remus, then?" she asked, and the amusement on Dora's face instantly disappeared, and she folded her arms firmly across her chest.

"Merlin, no! I've not said a word about it to anyone. Remus...he doesn't want Harry finding out. Or Ron or any of the rest of the family..."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't want a fuss. And there would be one, you know what they're all like. Of course we'll have to tell them eventually. I think...I think we all need a bit of time for things to...to sink in. We need to settle down...get used to...to what the future might hold. And then, once we've done that we can tell everybody else. But for now we just need a bit of peace and quiet."

"Peace and quiet? You should have said so earlier," Carrie murmured, offering the witch a raised eyebrow. "I would've left Imogen at Cleo's!"

The pair of them managed to laugh cheerily then, only to sober again when Carrie asked:

"What does Remus think? Of what you're doing, I mean."

Dora puffed her cheeks, leaning her head back until she could stare up at the sky.

"He...probably hates it." she confessed, fingers tapping absently upon the arm of her chair. "I doubt he feels as strongly as I do about turning a profession into a sport, but then again he wouldn't, he's not an Auror. But I don't think he's interested in it, he never tunes in to listen to the rankings on the wireless each year. But he knows what I think, so I don't expect he's terribly pleased to see me shunning my beliefs on the off chance I might win and get us some gold. He probably thinks it's stupid. And of course I'm out here constantly practicing when I could be inside with him. Which is a big deal, you know, if we've only got...if we've only got...a little time..." the witch trailed off with a sniff, and Carrie thought at long last she might catch sight of some tears, but instead Dora gave herself a little shake and insisted: "But he understands why I have to do it. He'll cheer me on no matter how he feels about it. Even if I lose. It's...it's a question of having hope, Carrie. That's all this really is. A chance for me to hope."

"Well I hope you win, too." Carrie murmured, reaching to lay a hand upon the Auror's arm. "We all do."

"I doubt it." Dora mumbled, yawning widely. "Remus probably hopes I'll get knocked out in the first round and that he'll simply fight off the infection all on his own, save me the risk of getting hexed into the middle of next week repeatedly. Not that I don't do that at work anyway, but..." she trailed off again with a sigh, gaze dropping downwards until she was peering back into the house.

She promptly straightened up in her chair, muttering something unintelligible and distinctly irritable before heaving herself up onto her feet.

"Remus!" she called as Carrie turned to see what she had spotted. "What are you doing?"

Remus paused in the kitchen doorway, a chattering Imogen skipping down the hallway after him as he adjusted the heavy black cloak that he had hung in the crook of his arm. As Dora headed back inside, Carrie rose slowly to her feet and wandered after her.

"Am I on fire?" Remus wondered as his wife half-skidded across the kitchen tiles to a stop in front of him, and she shot him a distinctly disapproving look before jabbing a finger at the velvet material, demanding to know:

"What's that?"

"It's a cloak."  
>"Aha, you're funny, love! We've already talked about this, haven't we? I'm going to ask Carrie to go with me instead...isn't that right, Carrie? You're coming with me tonight, aren't you?"<p>

Carrie had absolutely no idea what Dora was talking about, but at the look the witch shot over her shoulder at her, the muggle instantly agreed:

"Of course I am..."

"Excellent." Remus said, offering his daughter-in-law a bright smile over the top of his wife's head. "You can stand with the rest of us, Carrie, we're going to make a night of it."

"The rest of you?" Dora cried, eyes widening quite madly. "Nobody's making a night of anything, Remus! Least of all you!"

"I've not left the house in over a week." Remus pointed out rather sullenly, and before Dora could protest he told her: "It was Kingsley's idea...he'll do anything for a good get together, he would. We're going in our parade uniform, that way everybody will recognise who we are and who we're cheering for."

Dora's face visibly drained of colour and she reached to snatch the cloak from his arm, and at a flash of vivid orange lining Carrie recognised it as part of the werewolf's uniform he wore for the Order's annual Phoenix Day Parade.

"I don't want to be bloody cheered!" the witch snapped, tossing the cloak down onto the kitchen table, causing Imogen to let out a little gasp, and Carrie winced. There was a long pause before Remus asked:

"And...you're going to tell Kingsley and the rest of them that, are you?"

Dora simply stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times before he concluded:

"Well, then!"

"Can I come, Grandad?" Imogen asked, apparently enough recovered from her grandmother's outburst to tug excitedly at the hem of Remus' jumper, and as he reached to pull Dora into a hug, the wizard told the little girl:

"That would be up to Mummy, Sweetheart."

Carrie found herself fixed with a pair of expectant eyes as her daughter bounced up and down upon the balls of her feet.

"Please, Mummy? Pretty, pretty, pretty please! Pretty, pretty, pretty..."

"What is this, exactly?" Carrie asked, voice raised above Imogen's desperate pleading.

"It's the formal presentation of this year's duelling team to the public and the press." Remus explained as Dora simply slumped further against him in disgust. "They hold it in the Ministry's Atrium, squeeze as many people in there as possible and have a brief interview with each of the Aurors who have volunteered. It get's broadcast live on the WWN."

"...please, please, please, please..."

"Oh, right. Alright then. We'll go, won't we Immy, love? We can cheer nice and loudly for Nana Dora with Daddy, can't we?"

Dora's grunt of disapproval was promptly drowned out by Imogen's shriek of excitement, and Remus released his wife, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he suggested:

"How about, Imogen, you help Mummy and I make a big banner or something to take with us?"

"Why are you encouraging them?" Dora muttered, but Imogen's squeal of approval drowned her out.

The Atrium at the Ministry of Magic was, on every occasion that Carrie had ever visited it, always bustling with activity, witches and wizards milling to and fro from the lifts and fireplaces. But that evening when, having wrestled Imogen into a suitably smart dress, polished her shoes and braided her hair, Carrie had arrived with Teddy and their daughter in the vast marble room it was more stuffed full of people than Carrie could ever have imagined. As they slowly made their way through the thronging crowds towards the distinctive mass of black and orange cloaks near the front, Carrie caught sight of a large raised stage that had been constructed in front of the vast fountain in the centre of the room. A long line of Ministry wizards dressed in the blue robes of Magical Law Enforcement stood before the stage, a human barrier against the excited crowd. Several large speakers, old fashioned ones shaped like enormous horns, were dotted about the walls above the fireplaces and Carrie, Teddy and Imogen had barely sidled up next to the edge of gathered members of the Order of the Phoenix when up on the stage Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped up to a large, odd looking contraption that vaguely resembled a microphone of some sort, and cleared his throat.

The sound boomed around the room and the crowd fell instantly silent.

For a long moment, the Minister simply stood, peering around at the gathered people, before near the front a voice announced:

"We're on air, Minister!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt drew himself up to his full height, spreading his arms out grandly as he announced:

"Good evening, Wizarding Britain!"

The crowd went instantly crazy, whooping and cheering so loudly that Imogen's grip upon Carrie's hand tightened in surprise at the sudden swell of noise. As Carrie reached to slip an arm around the child, back up on the stage the Minister beamed around at the booming noise and called:

"As Minister for Magic it is my pleasure to present to you all this evening, from the ranks of our very own Auror Department, your National Duelling Team!"

Again, the crowd let out a deafening cheer and Carrie was forced to scoop Imogen up into her arms.

"Can you see Nana?" she half-shouted into the child's ear as Imogen buried her face into her mother's shoulder. "Look, here she comes! Wave, Immy!"

The British National Duelling Team, Carrie saw as the team in question filed up onto the stage, consisted of six Aurors. Carrie only recognised two of them, indeed the grinning face of Jasmine Wickes was difficult to miss. Dora, stood at the very end of the line, might have skipped Carrie's attention all together had the muggle not been looking for her. Whilst the other Aurors waved cheerfully and beamed around at the crowd, the Deputy Head of Aurors looked uncharacteristically shy, her hair dark and her gaze fixated on the back of Kingsley's head. The rest of the team was entirely male and consisted of a large, burly young man with long brown hair and a scraggily beard, a fresh-faced, blonde haired wizard who looked barely old enough to be out of school, a slender looking Asian man who was sporting an enormous scar down one side of his face, and finally a tall, handsome wizard with a slightly hooked nose, short auburn hair and a rather dazzling smile that he was busy flashing to the cheering crowd. They made a rather motley bunch, Carrie supposed, though a glance sideways reminded her that so did another strong team of witches and wizards she knew.

"Well then!" Kingsley said, causing the cheering to die down again. "Let's get straight down to business! Who's first?"

Predictably, Carrie thought, Jasmine Wickes stepped forward, head held high as she stepped up next to the Minister.

"Alright, Guv'ner?" she greeted cheerfully, and a ripple of laughter swept through the crowd.

"Let's start off as we usually do, shall we?" Kingsley said, offering her a raised eyebrow. "Would you tell the country your name?"

"Jasmine Wickes." Jasmine supplied, grinning broadly.

"And how long have you been an Auror, Jasmine?"

"Oh, far too long!"

Again, the crowd chuckled.

"And who qualified you, far too long ago?"

"Tonks did. Dora Lupin, I mean."

"And Dora Lupin is, of course, our Deputy Head of the Auror Department."

"Yep."

"And she's joined up with you for the first time this year. We've never had a Deputy represent us before. What do you think about that?"

Jasmine sucked in a deep, considering breath and glanced over her shoulder to look at Dora, who had folded her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow.

"I think it means I'm going to have to behave myself." Jasmine decided, and everybody laughed again.

Everybody except for Dora, that was.

"Thank you, Jasmine!" Kingsley called, gesturing for her to return to her place. "And who do we have next?"

The youngest of the assembled Aurors stepped forwards, smiling rather nervously.

"And what's your name?" the Minister asked, and the young wizard cleared his throat and responded:

"My name is Albert Diggory..."

A sudden interruption was bellowed from the crowd, somewhere amidst a cluster of scarlet clad figures who looked distinctly like Aurors themselves.

"_Blue Eyed Bertie! He fights dirty!_"

Alert Diggory blushed scarlet, though he grinned widely at the shout.

"How long have you been a qualified Auror, Albert?" Kingsley asked him, and the rather timid young man seemingly swelled with pride as he announced:

"I qualified just under six months ago."

"And who qualified you?"

"Harry Potter, Minister."

There was a few random shouts of approval at the sound of the Head of Auros' name, before they were drowned out by Kingsley's next question.

"How are you finding the job, Albert?"

"Oh, it's very rewarding. I like it a lot."

"Excellent. That's what we like to hear! And did you bring anybody here with you today, to cheer you on?"

"Um...my parents."

"What do they think about you joining the National Duelling Team?"

"I don't really know...I only told them about it about an hour ago..."

The interviews wore on, and eventually Carrie was forced to set Imogen back down upon her feet for her arms were beginning to ache. It seemed an age had passed by the time Dora finally reluctantly stepped up to stand at Kingsley's side, and he greeted her cheerfully, reaching to clamp a friendly hand down upon her shoulder.

"I think we all know who you are," the Minister admitted, smiling brightly, "but perhaps you'd like to tell us your name anyway."

"It's Dora." Dora supplied, making very little effort to smile. "Dora Lupin."

"And you've been an Auror for...Merlin, it's been thirty years now, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has."

"Would you tell the nation who qualified you?" Kingsley asked, sounding rather smug on her behalf, which Carrie supposed was lucky because Dora didn't look smug herself in the slightest when she supplied:

"I was qualified by Alastor Moody."

For a moment, Carrie thought she might be able to hear a pin drop.

And then the Atrium positively exploded with cheers. The Order beside the muggle clapped and whistled enthusiastically, but up on the stage Dora simply stared blankly, her expression bleak. Kingsley reached to sling an arm around her, as if the movement might jog a smile onto her face, and the witch consented to smiling weakly.

"Any words of wisdom for your fellow teammates, then? Passed down by the man himself?"

Dora considered this question for a brief moment before glancing round at the Aurors stood behind her, admitting:

"Well if he were here today he'd tell you all to wipe those ridiculous looks off your faces and get back to doing some proper work."

Dead silence.

"Well!" Kingsley said rather uncertainly, his grip upon Dora's shoulder tightening rather disapprovingly. "I rather doubt that, Tonks. If Alastor had been the one talking he'd have been far less polite about it!" When only a few people laughed, the Minister hurriedly moved on, gaze coming to rest upon the Order of the Phoenix as he observed: "Ah, I see some very familiar faces in the crowd this evening. Did you bring the entire Order of the Phoenix with you?"

"Pretty much, it seems."

"How about that! The entire Order of the Phoenix! And did you bring anybody else with you?"

"Well my family's here. My husband, my son, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter."

Teddy hastily scooped Imogen up and handed over the paper flag she had spent the morning smothering in glitter and glue.

"Give it a wave!" the wizard whispered, and when Imogen held her creation above her head and waved it around wildly, at long last a broad smile spread across Dora's face. The witch offered her granddaughter a wave in return and the child shouted:

"NANA!"

"Hey Sweetheart!" her grandmother called back, and Imogen's flag waving grew so enthusiastic that she very nearly dropped it.

_Awww!_ the crowd chorused, and then the Minister asked:

"So, what do you think of the line up, this year, Tonks?"

"It's very strong. I would think that though, I qualified at least half of them."

"And you're qualifying a whole class of new Aurors in just a short while, aren't you?"

"That's right. I'm in charge of qualifying the cadets this year. Harry and I take turns."

"One of those cadets being your son."

"Yes."

"How's he doing?"

One glance towards the son in question proved that she finally appeared to be entering into the spirit of the occasion, for Dora shrugged and announced:

"Oh, he's incredibly mediocre!"

Teddy's gaze drifted towards the ceiling with a exasperated sigh and Carrie was forced to smother a snigger into her hand. At Teddy's other side, however, Remus promptly dissolved into laughter along with everybody else.

"His dad and I are extremely proud of him." Dora confessed after a good snigger of her own.

"Naturally," Kingsley said, and then he turned a little to face her, gaze quite probing as he said: "I expect you know what I'm going to ask now, don't you?"

"Probably." Dora admitted, the smile instantly fading from her face, and for some reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, Carrie found herself holding her breath.

"You've never really shown much of an..._interest_ in this event before. We've never had anybody of your age or rank join the team, either. I think what everybody is wondering, especially those of us here at the Ministry who know you well, is _why_? Why did you decide to join? Why now? Why this time round?"

There was a very long silence. At the sea of expectant eyes upon her, Dora looked utterly stumped. For a moment Carrie found that the phrase _deer caught in headlights_ sprung to mind, and the Deputy Head of Aurors mumbled:

"Um... well...um..."

"Oh Merlin," Carrie heard Teddy whisper, his grip upon Imogen tightening. "Say something, Mum, for the love of Merlin...!"

It was at that precise moment that Dora's eyes finally picked Remus out in the crowd, and for a moment she simply stared at him. Carrie felt her heart beginning to thud in her chest as husband and wife gazed at one another...

Dora straightened up, head held high as she announced determinedly:

"Well I've struck a deal with my husband, you see." Her gaze upon the man in question was so focused that Carrie felt as if it might very well burn him. "If I win this, he's got to do the washing up for _the next ten years_."

As the crowd laughed yet again, Carrie felt as if she had been struck by a boulder to the chest, gazing up at Dora as she continued to stare fixated at Remus.

The message was painfully clear.

_Don't you dare die on me_.


	5. Cracks

_Note: Unfortunately due to the wonders of modern technology (eg. My laptop crashing), I've had to rewrite a large section of Snatch and Grab. Hence I am once again updating this story and have yet to update the other one! Sorry about that! Still, I hope to have it finished relatively soon. I am awfully busy with University, however, so I make no promises! I just hope instead!_

_In other news, I joined Pottermore! :-) Which was foolish, really, because I don't have time for fun these days...in fact I'm starting to forget what "fun" actually is..._

_Thank you very much to everybody who has been reviewing these stories! It's lovely to hear from you all, especially when I am so busy and work is getting to me! _

**5: Cracks**

Once the public had been ushered towards the various available exits and the press had packed away their cameras and quills the swell of people in the Atrium slowly began to lessen until only a small crowd remained, made up of Aurors, cadets, their friends and families and a handful of Ministry officials. Carrie had thought them all simply lingering to talk, only for a voice from just behind her to inquire:

"Champagne, Madam?"

Carrie turned away from Teddy who was stood, a sleeping Imogen in his arms as he chatted away to James Potter and a blonde haired girl Carrie had never seen before, presumably yet another one of the eldest Potter boy's girlfriends. The muggle found herself faced by a young wizard dressed in smart bottle green robes, a large tray of delicate champagne glasses held almost ceremoniously in his hands.

"Oh..." Carrie glanced back at the sleeping form of her daughter before deciding: "No, no thank you. I think we'll be going home shortly."

The wizard offered her a smile as Dora appeared at his elbow, and he promptly turned and offered:

"Champagne, Mrs. Lupin?"

"No thank you, Steven." the Deputy Head of Aurors replied, sounding remarkably gracious given the scowl that promptly materialised upon her face when he turned away from her. "Bloody champagne...!" she muttered once he was out of earshot, only for Jasmine Wickes to snatch up a glass as Steven passed her, calling:

"For Merlin's sake, Tonks! Stop being such a killjoy!"

"I'll kill a whole lot more than that if you don't shut up." Dora retorted under her breath as her teammate sauntered up beside her, and Jasmine sighed dramatically, taking a generous gulp from her glass.

"We'll get it out of you eventually, you know!" she announced, elbowing Dora in the ribs and grinning so broadly that Carrie thought Dora might very well hex her on the spot. "The Minister might've failed earlier, but that doesn't mean we're going to give up!"

"Kingsley asked and I answered." Dora mumbled, folding her arms firmly across her chest. "The mystery's over, Jas."

"Just because you answered doesn't mean you _gave an answer_!" Jasmine insisted, eyes dancing with curiosity. "It's a miracle Moody ever passed you on the Interrogation exams when you clearly can't bullshit to save your life..."

"Don't start on me again, Jasmine. I'm sick of it and I'm not in the mood."

"Of course you're not in the mood! You hate all of this! Everybody knows it! But you're still here! Why? Come on Tonks, why would you do that? You and Remus don't really have a bet on at all, do you? That's just a really crap attempt to dodge the question..."

Dora's jaw visibly tensed. Carrie instantly winced.

"Yes!" Dora snapped, taking such an abrupt step forward that it made Jasmine jump, the amusement dying on her face almost instantly. "You've got me sussed, you saw right through me, well done!Clever you! Have a gold star! Yes I dodged the question! I've been dodging it for days! And I'll keep on dodging it, too! Because it's none of your bloody business why I joined and if I want to keep my mouth shut I will!"

There was a slightly stunned pause at the end of this little outburst and as she sucked in a fresh breath through clenched teeth, Dora's hair had grown distinctly red. Carrie reached to press a hand to her mouth, heart racing as Jasmine's eyes widened and she sucked in a breath of her own.

"Sweet Merlin..." Jasmine breathed, "Something...something's happened...what's happened?"

"It's none of your business." Dora hissed, sounding distinctly shaky, but Jasmine shook her head, one hand reaching forward to grasp hold of her fellow Auror's arm.

"Tonks..."

"I said it's none of your business."

"Tell me! Is it...is it the Wizengamot? Have they roped you into some...some stupid stunt or..."

"Jasmine!"

"Tell me, for Merlin's sake! Let me help you or...or something..."

"I mean it, Jasmine! Drop it."

The two witches stared challengingly at one another for a long moment, waiting for one another to back down. They might very well have stood there forever, Carrie realised, or the muggle might discover the answer to an age old question: _What happens when an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object?_

When the pressure began to become unbearable, Carrie decided to provide herself with an answer:

_The unmovable object calls for back up._

"Honestly, Jasmine." the muggle interjected a little timidly. "Some things are called private for a reason..."

Jasmine finally blinked. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she mumbled:

"Well...I'm here, you know..."

"I know." Dora told her, nodding a little because smiling seemed beyond her just then.

"I know you know, but...but don't forget it, will you?" Jasmine insisted. Carrie thought she looked rather wounded at Dora's refusal to confide in her. "Because we stick together round here, don't we? That's what you and Harry always tell us."

"Yes...I never thought I'd live to regret it." Dora mumbled, and the two witches shared an uneasy half-chuckle that made Carrie want to wince again.

"Isaac's talking to Ron about the raid next week so...so I'll just..."

"Yeah."

"Say hi to Remus for me, won't you?"

"Mm..."

"See you in the morning. We can eye up the competition, the qualifiers are starting..."

"Yep."

As Jasmine turned to shuffled away in an uncharacteristically meek fashion, Dora reached to rake a hand through her hair, sighing heavily.

"Thanks, love." she mumbled as she turned back to Carrie, and the muggle gave a shrug.

"It's nothing." she insisted as Remus sidled his way past a couple of Auror cadets towards them. "But you know, you could tell Jasmine. You can trust her."

"Trust has nothing to do with it." Dora insisted, promptly rounding on her husband when he came to stand beside her, announcing: "I want to go home, Remus."

Remus opened his mouth to respond, only for the Auror to spot the glass of champagne in his hand, causing her eyes to widen quite madly as she hissed:

"You're not bloody drinking that, are you? You read the letter from the hospital! It said..."

"I know what it said, Dora." the werewolf interrupted, rolling his eyes at her, which given her current mood Carrie thought was probably a foolish move. "I'm not drinking it, I'm just holding it."

"Why?"

"Because it's what everybody expects."

"Right...well give it here, then. I want to go home..."

Carrie watched, mildly impressed and rather appalled as the witch reached to snatch the glass from the wizard's hand, and promptly downed the fizzy beverage in a few large gulps. Reaching to abandon it on a passing waiter's tray she glanced searchingly around and wondered: "Where's Ted gone?"

Carrie turned back to the spot where Teddy and James had been stood just a short while earlier, only to find James stood talking to his girlfriend, a sleeping Imogen bundled up in his arms. Teddy was nowhere to be seen. As Remus stepped over to relieve James of his burden, Carrie and Dora set about looking around for Teddy, and as Carrie squinted over at the crowd of Order members her attention was diverted when Dora observed:

"Ah, he's over in the corner with the other cadets."

Carrie turned to follow Dora's gaze, and sure enough across the room she caught sight of Teddy stood amongst a small group of young men and women all dressed in long black cadets' robes trimmed in Auror red. Whilst the majority of the gathered future Aurors were clustered together chattering away as a group, Teddy was stood with his back to them, talking to a female cadet who seemed to find whatever he was saying very amusing indeed. As the witch dissolved into laughter, reaching forward to grasp hold of Teddy's arm, apparently laughing so hard that she could no longer stand entirely unaided, Carrie wondered:

"Who's that?"

"Brooke Farrington." Dora supplied, rolling her eyes a little. "Merlin help me if I qualify a girl like that."

"What's wrong with her?" Carrie asked, but Dora merely gave a soft snort of amusement, before mumbling:

"Oh, nothing. Just as long as she doesn't break a nail."

Carrie reached to stifle a snigger into her hand. Over the years she had come across a number of Aurors, and only a handful of them had been women. According to Dora dark wizard catching was predominantly a male profession, though these days women made up around thirty percent of the workforce. There were plenty of female Aurors, Carrie had simply never seen most of them. The muggle liked to think that those she did know, namely Dora and Jasmine, were certainly typical examples of what an female Auror ought be like.

Brooke Farrington, on the other hand, was nothing of the sort.

Dora rarely left for work looking untidy. She made an effort to look presentable, she took a moment or two each morning to decide what colour hair she felt like having that day. She vanished the mud from her boots each evening and once a week went as far as to polish them. She sometimes dusted her face with a bit of powder if she thought she looked a bit off colour and on some occasions had been known to wear eyeliner. She might get out some lipstick, too, if there was a chance of an encounter with the press outside the Ministry on the day in question. But as a rule she did not bother to fuss much over her appearance. After all, she had a habit of getting caked in mud, rained on and generally made to look dishevelled. And if not she'd probably just be sat behind a desk for most of the day, in which case making a big effort seemed to be a waste. She had better things to do with her time.

Jasmine appeared to have a bit of an obsession with dying her hair a distinctly unnatural shade of dark red. It always looked pristine as if she had just returned from the hairdressers. She, like Dora, dusted a little make-up here and there and sometimes she painted her nails in clear and very discreet nail varnish. That, and her relentless flirting with fellow Auror Isaac Graham, was pretty much the only particularly girly thing that could be noted about Jasmine Wickes whilst she was at work. She often bought new pairs of boots, however this was mostly due to the fact that she took such poor care of the previous pairs, rather than any stereotypically feminine desire to own as many pairs as is both physically and magically possible.

The two witches, both distinctly quirky by nature, wore surprisingly conservative and extremely practical clothing to work. The practicalities of being an Auror were considered before anything else. Being a woman came second. Discreetly.

Carrie had never seen neither Dora nor Jasmine, or anybody in her living memory for that matter, team a set of Auror robes with a skirt.

That was before she first set eyes on Brooke Farrington.

"Is she wearing a skirt?" Carrie whispered to Dora, eyes widening in bemusement, and the Deputy Head of Aurors' lips twitched towards a smile.

"Looks like it."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because! When was the last time you wore a skirt to work, Dora?"

"I wore one to Interrogation Training once, a stupidly short one just to piss Mad-Eye off. Tried to tell him feminine wiles were a legitimate tactic!"

"What did he say?"

"He ranted at me for about half an hour...something about how we couldn't defeat Voldemort by shagging Death Eaters..."

"Ha!"

"I said we wouldn't know unless we tried...then I did a runner because he had that look on his face...the one that told you you were half a second away from becoming a ferret..." This recollection seemed to cheer the witch immensely and both she and Carrie promptly dissolved into laughter.

"It's completely impractical." Carrie observed once she had managed to stop laughing.

"It's alright around the office." Dora reasoned. "Brooke's the only one to do it, though. The rest of us are far too keen on fitting in with the men. I had to put my foot down on her first day with me though, when she turned up for Tracking Training wearing high heeled shoes. Not the most practical of girls is Brooke! But she has a killer aim with those hexes of hers."

Carrie looked back over at the female cadet, who was busy giggling at yet another of Teddy's jokes. She was a tall, slender, leggy young woman with platinum blonde hair that she had carefully arranged in a fashionably twisted knot at the back of her head. She wore a shiny pink lipstick smile and appeared to have something caught in one of her heavily mascara-framed eyes because she was blinking her eyelids rather rapidly. Carrie thought she looked more like a model than a potential Auror.

She seemed far too giggly for such a serious job, too...

Far, far too giggly...

Too giggly and touchy feely and fluttery and hair-flicky and...

Carrie didn't like her.

"She looks like an outrageous flirt to me." the muggle observed rather irritably before she could quite stop herself, and promptly felt herself blushing.

Dora glanced from muggle to witch and then back to the muggle again as Remus stepped up behind her, Imogen cradled against his chest.

"Maybe she is, but she'll give up on Ted in a day or two." the metamorphmagus concluded, grinning widely. "She did with the last three cadets she fancied."

"Ted's married." Carrie pointed out sourly, but Dora merely raised an eyebrow.

"Well then, she'll probably give up tomorrow! Don't take any notice of her, love. Ted certainly doesn't. I think he just _yawned_..." And with that, before Carrie could say another word, Dora had set off across the Atrium towards the cadets, letting out a loud whistle as if she were summoning a dog, and they all paused in their chatter to turn to look at her.

"Right then rabble, I'm going home!" she announced with a business-like clap of her hands. "I will see you all tomorrow after lunch. Somebody else will be with you in the morning for a case study talk...probably Isaac..."

"Who's the case study?" Teddy wondered, and Dora puffed her cheeks in consideration before concluding:

"Probably somebody he ran into whilst he was over in France a few years back. He likes telling stories about back then."

"When are you going to tell us about Bellatrix Lestrange?" One cadet called, sounding disappointed, and another promptly wanted to know:

"When's Harry giving a lecture on Voldemort?"

"There'll be a couple of days dedicated to Voldemort whenever Harry has enough spare time. As for Bellatrix...that'll be next week. I was thinking of asking Robert to do it."

A distinctly unimpressed murmur rose from the little group and a pouting Brooke Farrington folded her arms across her chest and asked:

"Did Robert ever even _see_ Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"C'mon, Tonks! You do it!"

"We don't want Robert to do it..."

"You should do it, Tonks..."

"None of this is up for discussion!" Dora insisted, forced to raise her voice above the rising protests. "I know what you're all thinking..."

"Yeah," a sulky looking cadet with frizzy black hair interrupted, "I'm thinking that it might be nice to be told by somebody who actually duelled the person we're studying and therefore has some clue as to what she's talking about!"

Dora shot the young wizard a raised eyebrow.  
>"No, Greg, that wasn't what you were thinking at all." she told him frankly. "What you were actually thinking was:<em> let's get Tonks to give the lecture on Bellatrix Lestrange because being related to the mass murderer in question she'll be bloody good fun to wind up throughout the whole entire thing!<em> In case you all failed to notice, I am not a performing monkey and none of us give these lectures for your pure amusement! So, now we've cleared that one up, does anybody have any questions?" When Greg opened his mouth to speak, she promptly added: "Except for Greg. No? Good! Let's go then, Teddy. Put him down, Brooke, he's got a wife and daughter to escort home!"

As Dora turned on her heel and strode back across the room towards her, Carrie felt a twinge of satisfaction to see Brooke's cheeks flush pink, before she abruptly leapt forward, calling after the Deputy Head of Aurors.

"Tonks...?"

Dora paused to look round at Brooke as she bounded across the shiny marble floor towards her. Teddy murmured farewell to the other cadets and strode over to the rest of his waiting family. He smelt rather sickly of perfume. It made Carrie's nose wrinkle.

"Sorry," he murmured as he reached to slip an arm around her waist, seemingly entirely aware of what was making her pull a face. "I'm pretty sure she bathes in it."

Carrie was pretty sure this was true, for once Dora had finished a rapid conversation with Brooke that had left the young cadet looking rather agitated, the Auror returned to the rest of the family bringing the same scent with her, the stench lingering on her robes. It was the sort of smell that Carrie suspected would leave her feeling rather light-headed, and she was glad when Teddy suggested:

"If we all floo back to yours, Mum, you can keep an eye on Imogen for half an hour whilst Carrie and I nip to the shops, the cupboards are pretty much bare at home."

It was nice, Carrie mused some fifteen minutes later having flooed back to Remus and Dora's house where Teddy abandoned his robes in favour of borrowing a far more muggle-looking coat from his father before apparating both Carrie and himself to the local shops, wandering up and down the mostly deserted aisles doing something as mundane as food shopping. She let Teddy carry the shopping basket and wandered along beside him, clinging onto his arm and being over-enthusiastic about which brand of washing powder they would buy or how many eggs would last them the next week. Wandering past a freezer displaying a couple of brands of fish fingers she recalled Remus winding Imogen up about eating goldfish the same day he had turned the family's world upside down. It seemed like rather a long time ago, everything since then had seemed like a bit of a blur.

"Do you suppose he's getting better yet?" Carrie wondered as they paused to snatch up a bargain pack of double length kitchen roll, and Teddy didn't bother to ask who she was talking about.

"It's not really been very long yet, has it?" he mumbled as he dropped the item into the wire basket, and his wife sighed and admitted:

"Well no...I suppose not. But it feels like forever. Has your mum said anything? At work, perhaps? When he's not around?"

"We don't talk much at work." Teddy confessed as the rounded a corner and set off slowly up the next aisle.

"You don't?"

"No, not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't think she likes to draw attention to the fact that we're related."

"Ashamed, is she?" Carrie sniggered, elbowing him in the ribs, and he let out a soft huff of laughter before admitting:

"Not exactly. After all I avoid her too. She knows I don't want to be...singled out...I don't want people to judge me on who my mum is, I want to be judged on who I am. I don't want anybody saying she...she favours me or that I think I'm special or something because I'm not. I'm not special and she doesn't think I am, either. She'd fail me just the same as anyone else. After all a bad Auror's a dead Auror, that's what she says. And I reckon she'd rather have me fail to qualify than end up dead."

"But people talk."

"Yes...Harry says it's inevitable."

"I expect he's right."

"Mm...it doesn't matter what Mum and I do, people will always talk."

"And your mum never listens." Carrie pointed out knowingly, reaching to grab a box of cornflakes from a shelf. "I hope you don't."

"Of course I don't." Teddy mumbled, shifting his grip upon the basket as she handed over the box. Carrie was not sure if she believed him. After all before he had walked out of his previous job the whole notion of joining the Aurors had rarely come up for discussion, for the very reason that Teddy had not wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps, just in case he didn't quite fit into them, or in case people thought his mother and godfather might give him too big a helping hand. His decision to join up had never really altered these niggling worries, they had never gone away. Teddy had instead, in a moment of rage, ignored them. And here he was now, still worrying what people might think.

"You'll make a fine Auror, you know." Carrie told him, reaching to take his hand in her own. "You'll pass those exams because you've worked hard and you're talented. The only thing your mum has to do with that is she taught you how important hard work is and she taught you to take pride in yourself. That's all. You're responsible for your own success, Ted. Don't listen to what anybody else says about it."

He smiled down at her, rather relieved by her assurances before leaning to drop a kiss atop her head.

"Sometimes I wonder," he admitted, turning his attention back to their shopping, "what we'll do if I don't qualify..."

"You _will_ qualify." Carrie insisted, grip upon his hand tightening. "I know you will."

"How do you know?"

Carrie frowned down at her shoes as she pondered quite how to answer.

_Because I have no idea what will become of us if you don't_, she thought dismally.

"Because I just know." she told him instead. "Do you promise to try your hardest?"

"I'll try harder than that for you, Carrie. I promise."

"Well then," Carrie drew in a deep breath and offered him the brightest smile she could muster. "I've no doubt you'll pass with flying colours! Not a single member of our family has ever broken a promise to me in all the years I've known them. That's not about to change now."

They walked back to the house, glad to snatch a little while longer alone together in the mild evening's weather, and played at being optimistic.

"I think it went quite well, earlier." Teddy said as they strolled hand in hand down the dimly lit street. "Mum handled everything alright in the end."

"The public will probably cheer for her more if she's sullen." Carrie reasoned with a grin. "I mean they loved Moody, didn't they? And your mum says he was a _miserable git_!"

Swinging a bag of shopping back and forth absentmindedly, Teddy gave a snigger.

"I reckon Mum'll give Moody a run for his money in that respect."

"I bet."

"They give lectures to Auror cadets on public persona, you know. All about not disgracing the Department's good name and how to come across as a professional...even if you're a actually a raving lunatic like Mum is most of the time."

As they finally reached the house and set off up the driveway, gravel crunching under their feet, Carrie chuckled at this observation, and as they stepped up onto the front doorstep she mused:

"Well you must all be experts in it, because I think at least half the Aurors I've ever met have been raving lunatics and nobody else seems to have noticed."

They were both laughing quite merrily as Teddy unlocked the front door with a discreet tap with his wand, and Carrie was just thinking that she hadn't heard either of them laugh so much in such a long time when the door swung open and they both promptly stopped laughing.

Imogen was stood in the hallway, her back to them as she gazed towards the kitchen, a plump cushion from the sofa in the living room grasped in one fist at her side, her shoulders slumped and her whole body trembling from head to toe. The little girl appeared to be crying hysterically, loud, garbled sobs rising in her throat and as her parents took in the sight before them in alarm a voice from the kitchen called:

"Immy Sweetheart! It's alright, love, just...just give Nana the cushion! Quickly, Sweetheart..."

"Oh Merlin..." Carrie breathed, and in a flash Teddy had bolted down the hallway. As her father came to a halt beside her, reaching to prise the cushion from her grasp Imogen promptly collapsed against Teddy's legs with a sob.

"Daddy...! D...Daddy...Grandad...!"

"It's alright, Sweetheart..." Teddy murmured, attempting to prise her away from him as from back in the kitchen Dora called:

"Ted?"

"Let go of Daddy, Sweetheart, there's a good girl..." Teddy instructed as the child continued to cling to him, and Carrie hurriedly rushed forward to pull her away from him. As she bundled Imogen up in her arms and Teddy rushed into the kitchen, Carrie caught a brief glimpse of Dora crouched upon the kitchen tiles before Teddy pushed the door shut behind him.

Sucking in a deep, composing breath, Carrie shuffled into the sitting room and collapsed down onto the sofa, hugging the still sobbing Imogen to her chest.  
>"Shh...calm down, Immy." she whispered into the child's dishevelled hair. "Did Grandad take a tumble? Whoops a daisy! Never mind, Nana's looking after him, isn't she, hmm?" Sighing heavily, Carrie closed her eyes, willing herself to remain entirely calm, fingers raking absentmindedly through Imogen's hair. "You're a very brave girl." she told her daughter as Imogen curled herself up in her lap. "Very, very brave helping Nana like that. I don't think I would have been that brave, when I was a little girl..."<p>

"Gr...Grandad hit...hit his head on...on the t...ta...table, Mummy."

"Did he?"

"Y...yes and...and Nana...Nana said...Nana said...get...get a cushion..."

"For Grandad's head?"

"Y...yes..."

"Well then, you picked a very good cushion, didn't you? That's the biggest one here, isn't it? It's nice and soft."

For a long moment Imogen simply sucked on her thumb, blinking her eyes rapidly in a vain attempt to stop the salty flow of tears from streaming down her flushed cheeks. Then she looked up at her mother eyes wide as she whispered:

"It was all red, Mummy. Grandad's hair was all red..."

Carrie pulled her closer until her face was buried in her shoulder, because she could feel tears of her own beginning to prickle at her eyes.

"It'll be alright, Im. Grandad will be alright. He'll be...he'll be just fine, I promise..."

At the thought of promises, Carrie wondered how good she was at making them compared to the rest of her family.

Lupins didn't break promises.

This one, then, seemed like a foolish promise to make if Carrie didn't want to break this unspoken family tradition of sorts.

"Listen, Sweetheart," she whispered, reaching to draw Imogen back a little so that she could look at her. "The thing is...well the thing is, my love, Grandad hasn't been feeling very well recently."

"Full moon?"

"No, love. Not that. Something else is making him feel poorly. But you mustn't worry. We'll all take very good care of him, won't we? We'll all be very brave, just like you."

"When is he going to be better, Mummy?" Imogen asked, gazing up at her mother with wide eyes, and Carrie wanted to tell her things would be better soon, but she felt far too shaken herself to lie.

"I'm not sure, poppet." she admitted, very nearly wincing when she felt a tear sliding down her cheek. "But...but we'll just have to wait and see."

Imogen chewed thoughtfully upon her lip for a moment, before reaching forward to wipe a tear from Carrie's cheek with an unnaturally careful finger. A series of soft bumps drew their attention and as they looked over at the door Carrie theorized:

"That'll be Daddy getting Grandad upstairs to bed. It'll be like when Grandad carries you up to bed, only much more tricky."

"Daddy mustn't bump Grandad's head again."

"No...perhaps I'll go and point that out to him, shall I? You wait here and I'll go and check he's doing it properly."

Shifting Imogen off of her lap, Carrie hurried over to the door and, pulling it open a little, stuck her head out into the hallway. There she found Teddy halfway up the stairs, one of Remus' arms slung around his shoulders. A distinctly bloody-looking tea towel had been tied around the werewolf's head and judging from his limp limbs Carrie assumed he was still unconscious.

"I...I knew he should've...should've stayed at home..." Dora was mumbling despairingly at the bottom of the stairs, face pale and cheeks distinctly damp as she watched Teddy's slow, awkward progress.

"You should probably owl Mungo's." Teddy called down to her, sounding rather breathless, and Carrie offered:

"I could do that, if you like, Dora."

Dora reached to bury her face in her hands for a long moment, drawing in an audible breath, before she straightened up a little, hands falling back to her sides. And with that, the Auror's moment of despair was over and she slipped briskly back into business as usual.

"No, no, it's fine. It's fine, love, I'll do it...and if you could find Dad a pair of pyjamas out of the dresser, Ted, I'll come up and help him into them in a minute. Now where's Imogen? Immy! Nana wants a cuddle!"

As she pulled the door open further and watched Dora sweep into the room with an exclamation of:

"There you are! Goodness me, what a big fuss..."

As the witch babbled cheerily at her granddaughter, who promptly launched herself off the sofa and into her grandmother's arms, Carrie watched Dora pause for a moment, reaching to swipe a sleeve across her eyes with a sniff.

How long, Carrie wondered, would Dora keep up the facade? How much longer until the cracks began to show? Carrie was beginning to worry that she could see plenty of them already...


	6. Strangers

_Note: I'm very sorry for the lack of updates. Life is hugely hectic just now!_

_Here is a slightly depressing filler chapter! I hope somebody likes it! (I'll just wait for all of the flames to appear in my email inbox!) I decided to take Brooke's advice and ignore the fact that you are all going to hate me..._

**6: Strangers**

By the time she and Teddy had arrived back at the flat that evening, and Teddy had slipped Imogen into her pyjamas and bundled the reluctant little girl into her bed, Carrie was feeling mentally drained. The muggle wandered into the little kitchen to deposit the shopping, eying the mound of dirty dishes that had steadily built up over the past few days and willed herself to go to the sink, fill it with soapy water and get scrubbing...

She was still stood gazing bleakly at the mess some ten minutes later when soft footsteps sounded behind her and quite suddenly water began to gush out of the kitchen tap.

"I'll sort it, Sweetheart." Teddy murmured as, with another flick of his wand the bottle of washing up liquid rose up into the air and squirted a generous spray of green liquid into the sink. "You go to bed, go on. I won't be long."

"You'll be here half the night with that lot." Carrie reasoned rather glumly, and the wizard admitted:

"I don't think that matters. I couldn't possibly sleep right now anyway. I'm...I'm not even sure I should have come home...I'm not sure I should have left Mum..."

"She'll manage." Carrie assured him, and of this she felt quite certain, but Teddy shook his head.

"She ought not have to. It shouldn't be like this. I wish...I wish Dad would hurry up and get better...or...or even hurry up and get worse!"

"You don't mean that..."

"I do! At least we'd know for sure if he'd recover or not...and if we knew the answer was not then...then at least Mum and Dad could accept it and...and then we could tell everybody the truth and...and Mum wouldn't be trying to do everything on her own! I'm no good at fighting with them, Carrie! They're my parents! But...but Molly and Arthur...Harry, Ron, Hermione, Gran...Kingsley! They'd fight! They'd make Mum see sense! Make her...make her let them help her, let them help shoulder the burden...talk some sense into Dad, too! They'd tell Mum and Dad what was best and they'd not take no for an answer! They'd not let them decline help! But I can't do that, Carrie, I can't tell Mum to sit down and rest! I can't tell her to...to take time out! She doesn't listen to me! And she can't keep it up, neither of them can! Dad can't keep up this facade of his for much longer! Look at what happened to him tonight! And it's only going to get worse! They'll crash and burn the pair of them!"

Carrie sighed heavily, reaching to lay a calming hand upon Teddy's arm.

"Don't worry," she told him as a stack of plates deposited themselves in the sink with enough force that it was probably a miracle they had not smashed on impact. "We'll talk to them, we'll sort them out. I'll have a word with your dad tomorrow whilst your mum's at work. He...listens more than she does. And if anybody can talk to her it'll be him."

As with most things she said to Teddy these days, Carrie wasn't entirely convinced he believed a word, but nevertheless she leant to brush a kiss to his cheek and murmured: "G'night."

She wandered sluggishly out into the hall and made for Imogen's bedroom to kiss her daughter goodnight, pausing outside the door and sighing heavily at the distinct sound of movement within the room.  
>"It's bedtime, Immy!" she called as she reached to push the door open. She heard the distinct sound of a cupboard being slammed shut and scrambling footsteps and as the door swung open she caught sight of Imogen launching herself back into bed.<p>

Carrie stopped dead in her tracks.

A cupboard being slammed shut?

The muggle's gaze came to rest upon the elaborate cabinet in the corner, with it's sinister swirling patterns and highly polished surfaces...

And it's cupboard that was stuck shut.

For a long moment Carrie simply looked from the cabinet to Imogen, and then back to the cabinet again.

"What were you doing, Im?" she asked as Imogen shuffled guiltily down under her duvet, and quite naturally the little girl mumbled:

"Nothing, Mummy."

"Did you...open this cupboard?" Carrie asked, walking over the the cabinet and dropping down to squat in front of it, but Imogen simply shook her head, her lips pursed firmly together.

Carrie reached to grasp hold of the handle and gave it an experimental tug, but it wouldn't move an inch.

"Of course you didn't." she muttered to herself, frowning deeply and wondering what had given her such a silly idea. She rose back to her feet and went to tuck Imogen in. "Straight to sleep now, poppet." she instructed as she straightened the duvet around the child. "Sweet dreams." Leaning to press a kiss to Imogen's forehead she whispered: "Night night."

She was glad of her bed a few minutes later once she had changed into her pyjamas and flopped down upon the mattress, musing that she really must be tired if she had begin to have such strange imaginings. Despite her fatigue she slept fitfully and still felt tired when she awoke to the sound of Teddy's alarm clock ringing shrilly upon the bedside table. It felt like a terrible effort to drag herself out of bed, indeed for the first time since her new routine she very nearly allowed herself to fall back to sleep. How on earth anybody managed to get up and about so early on a regular basis was beginning to become somewhat of a mystery.

And yet, Carrie discovered when she arrived and Remus and Dora's house that morning, plenty of people seemed to do it.

Dora made it look, or indeed sound, downright easy.

Though it seemed rather late for the Deputy Head of Aurors to still be home, Carrie heard Dora's laughter drifting down the hallway almost as soon as she had pushed the front door open.

"Nana's still home, Im." the muggle observed brightly as she reached to pull the coat from Imogen's shoulders, and yet the child didn't seem to be at all interested by this turn of events for as soon as she was free from the garment she made a beeline for the stairs, ignoring Carrie's murmured protests that she not wake her grandfather.

"That'll be Carrie and Imogen." Carrie heard Dora observe from within the dim confines of the study, as the muggle set off down the hallway, and a familiar voice observed:

"I should probably start behaving myself, then."

"Yes Robert, you probably should. You should have started the moment you stepped out the floo. Remus is only upstairs, you know."

"Remus wouldn't mind."

"I beg to differ."

"I highly doubt it."

"Either way, you're making me late for work."

"Well if you get these signed for me I'll be out of your hair."

"Mm...where's that bloody quill gone..." At the sight of Carrie passing the doorway, Dora glanced up from her rummaging through a desk drawer to greet: "Morning, Carrie love!"

"Morning Dora." Carrie murmured back, glancing into the room to find Robert stood just behind the witch, his arms folded across his chest, gaze fixated upon Dora's back.

"Hi Robert." Carrie greeted, and the Auror glanced up at her, smiling broadly.

"Hi Carrie, how're you?"

"I'm alright, thanks. Cup of tea, either of you?"

"No thanks, love. We'll be off to the Ministry in a minute. Remus'll probably like one, though."

Carrie wandered into the kitchen and set about making tea. After setting the kettle to boil and splashing milk into a couple of cups she wandered aimlessly around the kitchen, tidying away a thing or two, and was just about to scrape the remnants of a bowl of cornflakes into the bin when she heard Dora exclaim:

"Robert! For the love of Merlin!"

"Keep your voice down!" Carrie heard Robert snap, and Carrie couldn't help but shuffle a little closer towards the doorway to hear the wizard mutter: "Carrie might hear you."

Dora let out a strained chuckle.

"Oh, Merlin forbid that should happen!" the witch muttered, "How about you don't go around making...making comments like that to start with? That would be more helpful! I mean...where did that come from?"

"I don't know..." Robert mumbled, sounding rather embarrassed, only for Dora to insist:

"You must do."

"Well...Jas and Isaac, maybe...maybe because of them..."

"What about them?"

"Well it's their anniversary next week or something, isn't it? Jas was telling me..."

"Right...and that just got you thinking, did it? Merlin help me..."

"Yes! Yes, it did get me thinking! I'm not trying to be weird or anything, Tonks. I was just thinking out loud! Don't you ever do that? Don't you wonder...what if about different things?"

"Sure I do, Robert. I do it all the time – what if I take my holiday in June instead of August this year? What if I buy those robes instead of those other ones? Stuff like that! Not what if I'd...I'd stayed dating one guy instead of calling the whole thing off, or what if I wasn't married to Remus and was married to you instead! That was all such a ridiculously long time ago, too!"

There was a long, awkward pause before Robert mumbled:

"Well don't flatter yourself, I don't exactly think about it all the time."

"Damn right!"

"But when I do I like to think I had a lucky escape!"

Carrie leant forward just far enough to catch a glimpse of Dora reaching to give Robert a firm slap upon the arm.

"Bloody cheek!"

Robert leapt backwards a step, very nearly colliding with the bookcase behind him. As Dora turned her attention back to the papers upon the desk, there was momentary peace and quiet before Robert asked:

"So now I made you think about it...what do you reckon?"

Dora puffed her cheeks in consideration, quill tapping thoughtfully against paper before deciding:

"I reckon we'd have had a...solid relationship. Boring, but solid."

"Why boring?"

"Because you work way too much, I work way too much...we'd have had no time to have children or...or go anywhere interesting...we'd get bored of one another's jokes after a while and we'd run out of things to say. We'd have given up on sex by the time we hit thirty and you'd never have cheated on me but you'd have started eying up all the cadets half my age."

"What would be the point in that? You can look like any one of those cadets half your age if you fancy it..."

"And there we have it! Why we gave up in the first place!" Dora sniggered, shaking her head as she scrawled a loopy signature at the bottom of one page. "You can't date ugly girls..."

"You weren't ugly, you were just..."

"Not inclined to morph massive boobs. I know how it works. Shag the ones with big boobs, stay lifelong friends with all the rest!"

There was a long pause and Carrie watched Robert reach to rake a hand through his hair, frowning deeply.

"That...that's not how it was..." he murmured as Dora reached to dip the quill into the inkwell, turning over a page. "I know that's what I said at the time...sort of...I know that's part of the reason you suggested we stop but...but that wasn't how it was. Not at all."

Dora didn't appear to be listening.

"You've got to get Ron's signature on here too, you know. I can't sign this section for him..."

"Tonks?"

"He's with the cadets for an hour this morning but you can probably corner him in the office afterwards..."

"I lied." Robert said, reaching to grasp hold of his fellow Auror by the shoulder.

"What?" Dora asked, turning to face him, and his hand slipped down her arm as he repeated:

"I lied to you. Back then."

Carrie watched Dora lean back against the desk, folding her arms across her chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." the witch admitted, sounding wary, and Robert hastily withdrew his hand.

"Don't...don't look so defensive," he protested. "I'm just telling you because I don't want you thinking I'm such a shallow bastard! I'm not trying to...you know...you're married, it's much too late for any of that, we're past it! But I just want you to know, alright?"

"Spit it out."

"I didn't give a toss about your...your _boobs_ or...or anything like that! I thought you were stunning! Always have! But the truth is...well I didn't think I stood much of a chance in the long run with you. I always thought you seemed much too good...so I...I chickened out, went for us being mates. It was just...easier. I'm not like Remus. You didn't want to fight for me like you did him. You didn't want to make me brave enough to believe in us, so...so I gave up. Got out of there before you could dump me properly and do me some damage..." he trailed off into silence, and for a long moment the pair simply stared at one another, before Dora straightened up, taking a slow step forward until they were stood toe to toe.

Carrie felt a sudden stab of apprehension, her heart began to beat faster in her chest and she wondered what strange and alien scene it was that she had managed to stumble across as Dora gazed up at the wizard, who appeared to be holding his breath, his face distinctly flushed.

"You daft, daft bugger..." the witch concluded, and the wizard let out a soft huff of laughter.

"I know."

"So, so stupid..."

"Yes, alright! Don't rub it in..."

"Coward..."

"That'll do, Nymphadora."

Dora's face contorted in annoyance, but she reframed from any sort of retort. Instead she told him:

"I'd have stuck with you, you know. If we'd been together. But it wouldn't have been good..."

"You'd have met Remus through the Order and loved him anyway."

"But I'd have stayed with you. I'd have loved both of you. And it would have been crap for all three of us."

"Exactly. I'm glad we split up."

Despite this joint conclusion, Carrie still felt rather uneasy as witch and wizard stared thoughtfully at one another, and the muggle was just about to tell herself that her unease was entirely ridiculous when quite suddenly Robert abruptly leant forward to press a kiss to the witch's lips.

If Carrie had blinked she might almost have missed it, and yet the brief movement struck the muggle utterly dumb...

Or perhaps it hadn't. Perhaps what had truly struck her dumb was how perfectly still Dora stayed, how she made absolutely no attempt to move out of the way or lurch backwards in surprise.

Instead, after a lengthy pause, the witch simply informed the man stood before her:

"That was a sackable offence, you know."

"Sack me, then." Robert mumbled, gaze dropping to his boots, but Dora shook her head and told him:

"I don't want to. Are you going to apologise?"

"No, not really. Is that a sackable offence too?"

"Probably." Dora turned back to the desk, reaching to gather up the papers, expression one of mild bemusement. The Deputy Head of Aurors thrust the paperwork into her fellow Auror's arms and instructed: "Sod off back to the office, then."

Carrie felt rather as if she had just been punched in the stomach.

It was all Carrie could do to stumble back to the kettle and attempt to focus on making tea. She had never felt so utterly confused in all her life, and when Dora wandered into the kitchen a couple of minutes later Carrie found she simply couldn't help herself.

"What in Merlin's name was that about?" she demanded, rounding on the witch as Dora snatched up her bag from the kitchen table. The Auror offered the muggle a raised eyebrow.

"What was what about?"

"That!" Carrie exclaimed, pointing towards the door, eyes widening in frustration, and for a moment Dora glanced over her shoulder into the hallway, before something apparently clicked.

The witch gave a soft snort of amusement.

"Seriously?" she asked, reaching to sling the bag over her shoulder. "Bloody hell, Carrie! You crack me up sometimes, did you know that?"

Carrie felt her cheeks flushing pink and she wondered what it was she actually accusing, or what it was that she wanted to say or hear.

"Robert has a rather interesting way with words...if you _happen_ to have overheard them." Dora said as she opened up the bag and began to search through the contents. "I shouldn't bother dwelling on them. You'll only get the wrong end of the stick."

"Does he have an interesting way with kisses, too?" Carrie wondered before she could think better of it, and Dora's gaze shot up to look at her so suddenly that the muggle very nearly flinched. For a moment the witch simply stared at her disapprovingly before she sighed heavily and slipped the bag from her shoulder, dropping it to the floor with a thud.

"Let's point out the blindingly obvious, first of all." Dora decided, reaching to pull out a kitchen chair so that she could sit down, elbows leaning heavily upon the table. "I'm pushing fifty, I'm married, I've got a son...a grandchild, even! And if my luck doesn't hold I'll be a grieving widow before the year's out! Doesn't scream extramarital affairs now, does it?"

"I'm not saying you're having an affair or anything!" Carrie explained hurriedly, barely resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands in embarrassment. "Obviously...obviously I'm not..."

"Obviously." Dora agreed, worryingly sarcastic as she leant back in her seat, fingers tapping thoughtfully upon the table. She left Carrie to squirm for a long moment before telling her: "Robert and I are...complicated."

"What does that mean?"

"It means...a lot of things."

"What sort of things?"

Dora frowned deeply, pausing to chew thoughtfully upon a nail, before concluding:

"Things I don't think you could understand in the short time I have to explain them to you, Carrie. But what matters is that I understand them, Robert understands them..."

"Does Remus understand them?"

"Remus understands them perfectly." With that, the witch rose back to her feet, reaching to pick up her bag. "Ask him, if you like." And with that, she disappeared out into the hallway, heading for the floo.

Bemused, Carrie finished making the tea and made for the stairs. She found the bedroom door wide open and expected to find Imogen sat upon the bed, babbling incessantly at her grandfather. But instead she found the little girl lying silently at the werewolf's side, hugging his arm to her chest. It was not until she had taken a few steps into the room that Carrie realised that Imogen had seemingly fallen asleep.

"Morning." Carrie whispered as she crept around to the side of the bed, and Remus looked up from his gazing at his granddaughter to greet:

"Good morning, Carrie."

"I've made you tea." Carrie pointed out as she set his mug down upon the bedside table, and as she went to perch upon the stool before Dora's dressing table the werewolf smiled a little and murmured:

"Of course you have." For a moment he allowed his eyes to drift close with a sigh, before he wondered: "Did Dora get off to work okay?"

"She left a little late." Carrie recalled, frowning deeply into her mug as she paused to take a sip of her own tea. "She...Robert was here. He had some papers for her to sign."

"Ah, I see. How is he?"

"Robert? He's..." Carrie trailed off, frown deepening as she wondered precisely how to finish her sentence, and promptly decided not to bother. "They're...close, aren't they? Robert and Dora, I mean. Very close..."

"Yes, they are." Remus agreed sleepily, stifling a yawn into his hand before reaching for his tea.

"I...I asked Dora about...about it. She said things between her and Robert are..._complicated_."

"Most relationships are." Remus recalled, shifting carefully against his pillows in an attempt to sit up a little straighter without disturbing Imogen, whose grip upon his arm visibly tightened in her sleep.

"I don't understand." Carrie admitted a little warily. "What's complicated about Dora and Robert?"

Remus took a long sip of his tea, brow creasing a little in consideration.

"It's...an Auror thing, in a way." he decided once he had set his tea back down upon the bedside table. "It's...the sort of relationship you get by being thrown together...by watching one another take risks...by saving one anothers' lives and knowing you might have each other blasted from existence with a flick of somebody's wand..."

"Like you and Dora have? Because of the War?"

"Precisely like that...perhaps not quite as intense and of course they're certainly not in love with one another in the same way. But then again Dora and I were only at risk for three years or so. Dora and Robert have been that way for literally decades. They don't lose that feeling...it doesn't fade. When it comes to me, of course, Dora's still out there fighting to a degree...but I'm safe. I'm sat at home, safe and sound, she's got no worry like that about me."

"Isn't that what it's like with all of the Aurors, though? Don't they all have bonds like that?"

"In a manner of speaking, but of course there are always people you bond with more than others, for one reason or another..."

"Like you used to date them, for example?"

"Indeed."

"How long did Dora date Robert for?"

"Two...three months perhaps. I don't recall precisely. They didn't get much time to do a whole lot of dating, mind you. It was mostly going out for coffee during their lunch breaks. Then one day Alastor gave them an evening off...they planned it for over a week, where they were going to go, what they were going to do...whose house they'd wind up at by the early hours of the morning..." Remus leant back against his pillows, gaze rising to the ceiling before he recalled: "The big day came, Dora slipped out from under Alastor's nose an hour early so she could go home and get dressed up...but when they finally met up they ended up staying in the Three Broomsticks for an hour, both concluded they didn't think anything they had planned was actually a good idea and...split up. Dora went back to her place, Robert went back to his and the next morning they went back to being friends."

"That's bizarre." Carrie concluded, and the werewolf chuckled a little under his breath and corrected:

"It's highly fortunate. For me, at any rate. Because they'd make a good couple, Dora wouldn't have looked twice at me."

"And...they don't...worry you at all?" Carrie attempted to clarify, fiddling awkwardly with the hem of her blouse, and Remus chuckled again and guessed:

"He's been guessing what colour underwear she has on today, hasn't he?"

Carrie's eyes widened a little and she felt her face warming.

"N...no..."

"Then perhaps he told her she wasn't wearing tight enough jeans?"

"What? No! No he...he..." Carrie did her best to bite her tongue, and yet before she knew it she had blurted: "He kissed her! On...on the lips!"

Remus went worryingly silent. Carrie reached to clamp a hand over her mouth, but it was far too late.

She had absolutely no idea why she had said it. Perhaps because she was so confused herself she had momentarily entirely shunned his own feelings, or perhaps it was because Dora had practically challenged her to...

Carrie wished desperately that she could take it back.

Remus reached for his tea and took another long sip.

"I don't care if they flirt and joke around." he whispered, gazing down into his mug with a frown. "I never have done. Either I trust Dora or I don't. If I trust her there's no point caring, it's all harmless."

Carrie was sure he was about to utter the awful words: _But kissing isn't the same_. She wanted to bury her face in her hands, she could barely bring herself to look at him when he finally told her:

"I've no doubt that it was harmless. Kisses might mean a lot, but trust means a whole lot more. And perhaps...perhaps I might have cared about that sort of thing, before. But...not now."  
>"What do you mean?" Carrie whispered, feeling her stomach twisting into knots.<p>

"Now things are different." Remus told her, lips curving towards the smallest of smiles. "Now...now I'm glad. He's welcome to her."

"What?"

"Not that she wants him, of course, and not that he'd take her...but...I won't always be here..."

"Don't talk like that!"

"Why not? It upsets me, Carrie, more than anything, to think of Dora being on her own. Robert being there for her when I'm gone is a great comfort to me."

Carrie's grip upon her mug tightened as she shifted uneasily in her seat.

"Yes, well..." she mumbled, gaze upon her shoes. "You're...you're not gone yet...so...so...don't you talk like that! Dora would...Dora wouldn't like it if she heard you..."

"No, she wouldn't." Remus agreed glumly. "I've the most horrible feeling, Carrie, that she'll be...she'll be much too stubborn when the time comes. She's always been the same, she won't change! She'll...she'll insist on being dreadfully depressed and she'll...she'll refuse to...to move on or...or meet somebody else. She'll sit around here and...and not bother to live her life. She'll...wilt away and the whole world will...will turn grey..."

"Well...well Ted and I wouldn't let that happen." Carrie insisted, swallowing the lump in her throat. "None of us would, everybody would pull together and...you know..."

Remus merely gave a rather hollow chuckle. It made Carrie flinch. She felt rather angry with him for being so miserable, and promptly felt utterly wretched and selfish for doing so.

"I can't imagine it." the muggle confessed, tracing the rim of her mug with a finger. "Dora's always so...so bright and cheerful. So strong!"

"Then you've not known her at her worst. _Then_ you don't entirely know Dora." Remus concluded, sighing heavily.

Carrie simply stared at him bleakly.

Over the years, Carrie had observed Dora Lupin plummet towards rock bottom on a great number of occasions.

When Carrie had been eleven, living in the house next door with her parents and her brothers, she had watched Titus Goyle's attack upon the Lupins leave the entire family to crumble into a sea of arguments, dreadful moods and depression. And yet, throughout it all Dora had stubbornly refused to give up hope that things would get better.

She'd suffered a miscarriage the following year. Apparation had never quite ceased to make Carrie apprehensive after that day, having watched the witch collapse in agony upon the gravel driveway, bleeding profusely having splinched the umbilical cord. Looking back at the incident, now that she was older and had a child herself, Carrie couldn't imagine how awful Dora must have felt, how utterly broken, how consuming the loss must have been, to have something so precious quite literally torn from you, something so treasured and nurtured gone in one split second.

Carrie had always admired how quickly things had returned to normal, how Dora had been back at work within days, how she had filled up her time and kept busy until one would never guess anything so tragic had happened at all.

And then, several years later, there had been Ambrose Kraft and the Dousers and the unforgivable incident in Azkaban.

Dora never spoke of it. Absolutely never. Nobody else spoke of it, either, not even when Dora and Remus were out of earshot. It was much too awful, much too horrible, it was utterly unforgivable, inconceivable...

They didn't even talk about Cain Gudgen's attempts to reapply for his position in the Auror Department some year after the incident. Carrie had only found out about it mere months ago when she had found Minister Shacklebolt sat in Remus and Dora's sitting room, having a distinctly pained discussion about a low level Ministry position Cain had recently been offered, which had promptly caused Dora to threaten to resign as Deputy Head of Aurors.  
><em>If you don't stop them employing him<em>, the Auror had informed the Minister for Magic in an oddly calm but noticeably high pitched voice, _I'll be out of there before they can sign his contract! And I'll take Harry and half the Auror department with me! And if they don't like it, the Wizengamot can just go and get stuffed! I had a letter of resignation written out last time! It's probably still in my desk drawer if I dig deep enough..._

And yet Dora had allowed her own ordeal to become completely overshadowed by Carrie's own upheaval. Sent to live with her workaholic aunt who was rarely at home, away from her parents who were utterly changed from how she had known them, Carrie's whole life had been turned upside down. And yet there had been Dora, taking turns with Remus to escort her to and from St. Mungo's, waiting patiently in the corridor outside for sometimes hours at a time with a steady supply of handkerchiefs, hugs, reassuring smiles and the offer of dinner most evenings. At times Carrie forgot she was not the only one suffering and promptly felt wretched for doing so. Dora had been an unfathomable steady, reliable and solid presence in Carrie's life over those first few months.

Yes, Carrie had seen Dora at some dreadful lows and she could not possibly imagine that there had been any points in the witch's life that were even more dismal.

Surely if there had been, Carrie would have heard about them...

She wanted to hear about them, she realised. It was probing and depressing and probably not really what she wanted to hear at all, and yet the notion that she didn't know Dora apparently even half as well as she had thought was deeply troubling...

After all, Carrie was pretty certain Dora knew absolutely everything about her. Carrie told her practically everything, she always had done. It didn't seem fair for it to be so one sided.

"What's her worst?" the muggle asked, feeling a little ashamed for doing so, and Remus' eyes drifted closed, his lips pursed firmly together.

There was a long silence. Carrie barely resisted the urge to squirm. She was on the verge of mumbling some sort of apology when the werewolf recalled:

"I left her, once...twice, even..."

Carrie openly gawped at him, but he didn't seem to notice because he still had his eyes closed.

"Wh...what? When?"

Remus shook his head, frowning deeply. Carrie waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't say a word for several long moments, and when he did he simply murmured: "You have no idea..."

"No," Carrie agreed, gaze dropping back down towards her feet. "I don't suppose I do..."


	7. The Albanian and the Cockroach

_Note: And here we are again for more Epic Angst! But don't worry, at long last something vaguely interesting is about happen in this story! That's right, something other than the world getting flooded by tears is about to happen...in this very chapter! SHOCKING! I know! _

_Cleo uses some colourful language in this chapter. **Consider yourselves warned**!_

_Perhaps I ought explain this now, though it won't make sense until the end of this chapter: Why Albania?_

_I have chosen the Albanian Aurors as the "baddies" here because it seems to me that they do a rather lax job catching dark wizards in their own country. After all, it is where Voldemort spent a lot of his time hiding and it is also where Helena Ravenclaw chose to flee to. (Not that she was evil, it's just quite a few shifty things seemed to go on in Albania in the Wizarding World!) I have never been to Albania, I know very little about it as a country, I don't recall having ever met an Albanian, and I would just like to make it very clear that this is in no way any sort of attack on that country or anybody who happens to live there. After all I'm British and all of the other baddies so far have been from Britain! Oh, and also I should probably admit that I have absolutely no idea what an Albanian accent sounds like!_

_I break up for the summer in just under a week. So you might get a few more updates than usual!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**7: The Albanian and the Cockroach**

It finally happened that evening.

Everything fell apart.

Carrie had at long last prised Imogen away from Remus' side so that he might get a moment to himself, and the two of them were sat upon the sofa in the sitting room, examining a family photograph album that Imogen had dug out from a drawer in the study. They were just looking at a large photograph and crowded that had been taken at Lily Potter's eleventh birthday party, when the fireplace roared into life, signalling Dora's return from the Ministry. This evening a second figure appeared in the fireplace just a moment after the Deputy Head of Aurors had stepped out into the room, but a couple of seconds later it became clear that this time around her companion was not Teddy.

As Robert stepped out of the fireplace, reaching to dust the soot from his scarlet Auror robes, Imogen immediately scrambled to her feet, making a beeline for Dora, her arms open wide.

"NANA!"

"There's my girl!" the witch exclaimed, consenting to throwing her arms around the child and leaning to drop a kiss atop her head. "What've you got there? Goodness! What a lovely picture that is, look at all those smiles!" Carefully prising the excitedly fidgeting little girl away from the front of her robes, she suggested: "How about, my little love, you pop into the study and fetch the bright red folder that I've left on the desk? I'm going to check on Grandad..." To Robert, the witch instructed: "Wait here, won't you? I'll find it in just a moment..."

And so it was that Carrie found herself alone in the sitting room with Robert.

She felt...awkward.

"Hi..." she greeted as he turned slowly to face her, smiling in greeting.

"Hi Carrie, good day?"

"Alright...yours? Did you see the qualifiers for the competition with Dora and Jasmine?"

"Nope...I've taken on half of Tonks' paperwork so she had time to go herself! I'll have to read about it in the Evening Prophet instead, they'll have all the details."

"Oh, right..."

"How's Teddy?"

"He's alright, thanks."

"I saw him in the locker room before I left but I don't think he was up for chatting."

"No?"

"No. Mummy's not been terribly kind to him this afternoon."

"Oh?"

"I hear he's been a very naughty little boy and hasn't been practicing his shielding spells well enough, so she taught him a lesson and hexed him halfway across the gymnasium and into a wall. I imagine he was feeling a bit tender and rather sorry for himself."

"Oh, I see...but he's alright?"

"Perfectly fine."

"Good."

The two of them lapsed back into silence. Carrie promptly wished Dora would hurry up and come back downstairs...

She took her time about it.

An unfathomably long time, in fact. Indeed, Carrie was beginning to consider marching upstairs to find out what on earth was taking so long. Imogen had long since retrieved the folder and, having abandoned it on the sofa, had disappeared out to play in the back garden.

Robert was beginning to get fidgety. Carrie wished he would sit down. Or perhaps she didn't. Perhaps that would make her feel more awkward than ever. That in turn made the muggle feel rather childish. She ought be able to hold a simple conversation with somebody she knew reasonably well for ten minutes or so. And yet ever since that morning even looking at Robert was somewhat alien to her.

"She's taking a while." Carrie mumbled, and Robert agreed:

"Yes, she is."

"Do you have somewhere to be? I could...you know..."

"No, there's no rush. Leave her, I'm sure she won't be a minute..."

Robert wasn't wrong.

Suddenly there came the sound of muffled raised voices above and both Carrie and Robert turned to look out into the hallway as stomping footsteps sounded upon the stairs.

"I won't do it! I won't! I can't!"

"Dora, come back..."

"No! Not when...not when you're...not when you're talking like that!"

"Dora for the love of Merlin..."

"If you could hear yourself!"

"Dora!"

Carrie and Robert both stood, staring as Dora shot down the stairs, her mousy hair had grown dull and grey and her face was pink and blotchy as she stumbled down the hallway. As Carrie spotted Remus making a far slower descent of the staircase, the sobbing witch reached to bury her face in her hands, gasping in a deep, choked breath before her hands dropped limply to her sides and she shrieked:

"WHAT KIND OF BLOODY HUSBAND ARE YOU?"

"Bloody hell..." Robert muttered, sounding deeply embarrassed to witness such drama, and Carrie too felt her cheeks warming.

"Um...maybe you should...you know..." she began rather uncertainly, only for Dora to turn to catch sight of the two of them staring through the doorway at her. For a moment, the witch froze in horror, eyes widening in alarm and Carrie waited for her to miraculously pull herself together, to laugh the scene off and mutter something light-hearted about the fact that she and Remus had been married for much too long...

"Are you alright?" Robert inquired hesitantly, trying his very best to be kind as Remus paused halfway down the stairs to join in the horrified staring.

Carrie winced.

"Do I LOOK alright?" Dora cried, horror promptly dissolving into sudden rage, and on the stairs Remus' face contorted in embarrassment.

"I'm was only..." Robert began, only for the witch to shriek:

"Well don't!" She stomped into the sitting room, reaching to snatch up the files that Imogen had abandoned on the chair, hands visibly trembling. "I...I don't need your help...I don't need...need anybody's bloody help! Es...especially not yours!" And with that, she shoved the folder so roughly into her fellow Auror's arms that he stumbled backwards into the fireplace, before promptly instructing: "Now get out!"

Robert simply stared at her in uncomprehending shock.

"I'm...sorry..." he began uncertainly as Remus opened his mouth to call something suitably apologetic himself, only for Dora to insist:

"Just go! Go, leave...leave us! Just leave us!"

"O...of course..." Robert breathed, glancing back into the hallway towards Remus for some sort of confirmation, and the werewolf offered him a small nod. Carrie was just watching the Auror turn to grasp a generous fistful of floo powder out of the pot upon the mantlepiece when she heard Dora add:

"And you."

Carrie's gaze snapped back over to look at the witch's tear-stained face, the salty tracks still streaming down her cheeks as Robert disappeared in a roar of emerald flames.

"Me?" the muggle mouthed, her stomach promptly twisting into knots.

"Dora, don't..." Remus began warningly, but his wife seemed far too hysterical to take even a shred of notice.

"Yes, you! You and everybody else!" Dora cried, grasping fistfuls of hair in agitation. "Who the bloody hell do...do you think you are t...telling...telling bloody tales and...and putting such...such horrible, horrible thoughts in his head?" she swung an arm round so suddenly to point at Remus that she very nearly unbalanced herself, still trembling as she shrieked: "I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it all! I'm sick of people trying to tell me I'm d...doing too much or...or telling me how...how I bloody feel about things..."

"Dora, calm down..."

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I FEEL! You have...have no bloody idea and...and you reckon...you reckon you should come round here and bloody stick your nose into...into everything I...I do and...and you all reckon you know better than me! How can you know? Is...is your husband dying? Do you spend every night lying in bed wondering how long it'll be before you're sleeping in it on your own? D...does he collapse in...in your kitchen? Does he wake you up in the night moaning in his sleep because the bloody pain potions don't bloody last l...long en...enough? Do you have everybody trying to...to ask questions and...and gossip and...and d'you want to just give up every time your alarm clock wakes you up each morning? D...do you feel...like...like...your...like your dying too?"

Carrie simply gaped at her, she could feel the tears gathering in her eyes as Remus rushed down the final steps and into the sitting room, throwing his arms around his wife as she choked:

"No, you don't! You don't because you're...n...not...me...so...so stop...stop trying to...to know...don't..." Her gasped mumbling became smothered into Remus' collar as he pulled her to him, causing her to stumble. Carrie felt instantly sick. She watched the couple stagger over and collapse down upon the sofa, she flopped against him, her face growing deathly pale as he anxiously smoothed the hair back from her forehead, murmuring incoherently for a moment until he looked up at Carrie and asked:

"Would you fetch a glass of water and the last dregs of sleeping draught from the cupboard? And...and then take Imogen home?"

Carrie fled silently out into the hallway, pulling the door to behind her and numbly stumbling over to the cupboard under the stairs. She pulled open the door and for a long while simply gazed blankly at the laden shelves within.

She couldn't seem to quite remember what it was that she was supposed to be fetching, but at any rate she found that she had absolutely no desire at all to return to the sitting room. It was much too painful, much too despairing, much too...broken...

Those carefully concealed cracks that she had been tiptoeing around for the past few days had suddenly shattered the world into shard upon shard of despair, each fragment fraught with such pain that Carrie was sure she could feel every single one piercing her heart until the tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

She wished that Teddy would come home. She wished somebody could come and pick up all the pieces. Because surely Remus couldn't, surely that wasn't fair, it was too much to ask...

He'd do it anyway. He already was. Carrie could hear his hushed voice drifting out into the hallway in incoherent murmurs and, still clueless about the cupboard that she had gravitated towards, Carrie wandered back down the hallway, pausing to peer through the gap in the door, quite desperate to hear something comforting.

"...and we put Teddy to bed and kissed him goodnight and we stood in the bedroom for a few minutes, just...just watching. And then I said to you: Don't you follow me. Don't you do that to me because if you do I'll never forgive you for it. And do you remember what you said? You said it wasn't going to make a whole lot of difference to me if I ended up dead. And I told you that was irrelevant. Because I wasn't dead yet."

Remus was sat upon the sofa, Dora clinging with still trembling hands to the front of his shirt, her face, now framed by a sorrowful mop of snow white hair, buried in the crook of his neck. As he paused in his recollection the werewolf reached to carefully prise the witch's face back so that he could look at her, cupping her chin in his hands and gazing at her intently, thumbs scuffing her cheeks in a vain attempt to wipe the tears away.

"This is no different, darling." Carrie heard him whisper. "It's exactly the same. It might be a poor example because you ignored me back then and rightly so...but do you see?"

Dora simply sobbed.

"You're much too tired." Remus observed, pulling her to him and smoothing her disarrayed hair soothingly. "You're working much too hard..."

"No..."

"Yes, Sweetheart..."

"No."

"...much, much too hard. You need to slow down, you're making yourself unwell."

"I'm n...not..."

"Yes you are, darling. You're a mess. You need to slow down and take some time out before you crash and burn. You can't keep on like this..."

"I c...can, I will..."

"This isn't good for you."

"I don't care...I...I don't..."

"I care. If I were to take you to a healer right now they'd probably instruct you to take bed rest. You're exhausted emotionally, mentally, physically and Merlin knows how else. Now I don't know about you, but where I come from that's not the recommended state of health an Auror ought be in when her duelling team is competing in their first set of qualifiers tomorrow morning."

This only seemed to prompt the Auror in question to dissolve into yet more tears.

"Listen to me, Dora." Remus insisted, hugging her tightly. "This is going to stop. It must, it can't go on the way it is."

"Wh..what are you planning? S...some sort of miraculous r...recovery?" Dora choked out between sobs. "Y...you're g...getting worse and I...I won't...I won't stop l...looking after you, I won't!"

"I'd much rather you looked after yourself first before you start looking after me..."

"N...never..."

Remus sighed despairingly, leaning back until his gaze could wander to the ceiling.

"What did I do," he wondered, "to deserve a witch like you?"

In response, Dora merely tightened her grip upon the front of his shirt. For a moment, Carrie thought things appeared to be calming down, the sobbing becoming a bit too much to maintain, but then the werewolf concluded:

"I shall have to tell the others. There's no...no waiting, not now."

"No!"

"It wasn't a question, Dora. I'm not leaving them oblivious any longer. As nice as it is to see them all in ignorant bliss, we need them..."

"I d...don't need...anyb...body!" Dora insisted stubbornly. "O...only...only you! Only you!" And with that she crumpled sideways until she was lying sprawled across his lap, reaching to grasp hold of his hand in both of her own, pressing their fingers to her lips, eyes screwed tightly shut, trembling.

"Oh Merlin," she whimpered, voice cracked and hoarse from her sobbing, "What...what am I going t...to do?"

"Shhh. Try and take some deep breaths..."

"D...don't...don't leave me! Don't b...because...because I...I don't know what to do, I..."

"Shhh."  
>"I...I don't even know wh...what to do now! I'm scared! Y...you fall down and I g...get s...so s...scared and I...I don't know what to do when...when you're h...hurting o...or wh...what to do when...when you've taken...medicine and...and it doesn't...doesn't help...why can't it help? Why c...can't...why can't you just...just get better? I...I just want...I just want you to get better!"<p>

"I will." Remus whispered, reaching to swipe a sleeve across his eyes. "I will...I am! I already am."

"Y..you are?"

"Of course I am, darling. I've...I've gone all day today without a single pain potion! How about that?"

Having personally fetched two such potions from the cupboard that morning and watched him drink another couple that afternoon, Carrie despaired at such a blatant lie and was quite certain that Dora would see straight through it...

The witch shifted until she was sitting vaguely upright, watery eyes wide.

"R...really?" she breathed, not sounding in the least bit sarcastic.

"Really." Remus insisted, managing the smallest of smiles.

"A...and...and you...it...it's not hurting too much? You...you don't f...feel faint or...or..."

"Nothing of the sort. Just a little headache, that's it."

A positively beaming smile lit up Dora's face as she reached to fling her arms clumsily around her husband's beck with a croaky exclamation of:

"That's wonderful!"

And as he hugged her back Remus' face contorted guiltily as he murmured:

"It is, isn't it? Now...now where's Carrie with that potion?"

Carrie hurried back to the cupboard and set about searching through the countless bottles and vials of potions, and after a moment she heard Remus step out into the hallway after her, pulling the door shut behind him...

_Thud!_

The sound made Carrie jump, very nearly elbowing an empty glass jar from its shelf, and she hurriedly backed out of the cupboard, heart hammering in her chest...

She had been quite ready to see the werewolf lying sprawled upon the floor, but instead she found him still upon his feet, slumped against the bannister at the stairs, fists red having slammed them down upon the wooden surface, forehead coming to rest atop them. As she watched him draw in a series of deep breaths, his shoulders slumping, Carrie took a few hesitant steps towards him, and he glanced sideways at her, expression bleak.

"What am I doing?" he asked, face contorting as he buried it in his hands again. "What...what am I going to do..."

Carrie hurried to throw her arms clumsily around him, entirely at a loss as to what to say and she was alarmed to find him slump sideways against her, sighing heavily.

"I had to, Carrie, I...I had to lie to her..." he whispered in panic. "I...she...it was just too much, I couldn't...I just...I didn't know what to say and...and now I've lied to her and...and now she thinks I'm getting better! I couldn't not lie, I couldn't tell her I'm getting worse! I just couldn't..."

"It's alright," Carrie told him, grip tightening resolutely. "I...I think you did the right thing."

"Lying's never the right thing." Remus complained dismally, only for Carrie to ask:

"And what d'you suppose would have come of you telling the truth right now? Dora needs a clear head for tomorrow. If you can give her that, even if it's just for the day, well...well it'll be worth it, won't it?"

When Remus merely shook his head, the muggle reached to grip his shoulders, giving him a firm little shake.

"Listen to me, Remus." she instructed, doing her level best to sound firm and confident. "This is what we're going to do. I'm going to fetch that water and that sleeping draught. You're going to take Dora upstairs, tuck her up in bed and let the potion knock her out for a couple of hours. Then I'm going to take Imogen home, give her some dinner, then take her round to Cleo's house. Then, once Ted gets home, he and I are going to meet you and Dora in the Leaky and we're all going to have a nice family dinner and talk about how Dora's going to kick everybody's arse tomorrow and how Britain is going to sail through the qualifiers. Alright?"

When Remus simply sighed, she gave him another firm shake.

"Alright?" she insisted, and he gazed down at her, the smallest of smiles creasing the very edges of his lips.

"Look at you," he said with a sniff, reaching to press a hand to her cheek. "Look at our girl Carrie, our little danger magnet!" He let out a slight chuckle, reaching to hug her tightly. "I knew you'd be like this." he told her. "I knew Dora would rub off on you eventually and you'd grow up strong. Strong and full of hope!" The werewolf sighed heavily, grip upon her tightening as he admitted: "Oh how I wish we didn't need it! How I wish we didn't lean on you..."

As she sat upon the sofa in her living room, rubbing absentmindedly at a stain upon her faded jeans, Cleopatra Clancy winced at the sound of her sister's voice from out in the hallway.

"Oh. My. GOD! Cleo! Oh my god, come and look!"

Cleo sighed heavily, leaning to stretch her legs out in front of her.

"No thanks, sis!" she called back, and she promptly rolled her eyes when her sister whined:

"But...but I need your help! It's all over my HANDS!"

"Well go and wash them!" Cleo exclaimed, utterly exasperated, only for a pitiful wail to finally coax her up from her seat and to the open doorway.

She eyed her sister Bowie, crouched upon the floor, staring in horror down at the squirming baby that lay wriggling upon the changing mat, bare legs and bottom splattered with...

"Bloody hell..." Cleo muttered, wrinkling her nose, and Bowie exclaimed:

"It's everywhere!"

"For goodness sake," Cleo grumbled, reaching to roll up her sleeves. "Move over!"

Bowie shuffled gingerly back, holding her hands aloft as if she rather wished she could cut them off and grow a new pair. Cleo dropped down upon the floor, reaching to grab a fistful of baby wipes.

"Hello Chubby!" she cooed, grinning widely at the baby as it flailed its arms around in excitement, and Bowie snapped:

"Don't call her that!"

"Well it's better than Delilah-Mae! That's a bloody mouthful, isn't it Chubs? Honestly, Mummy ought know better than to give you a silly name like that..."

"Just shut up and change her nappy!" Bowie snapped. "It's making the whole house stink!"

"Well that's alright for you, isn't it? You'll bugger off home with her in a minute and leave me to go around with the air freshener! What are you feeding her, anyway? Toxic waste?"

"I don't know, Mum's been watching her whilst I went to see Bradley!"

"What're you doing hanging around that idiot?"

"He's not an idiot, he's 'Lilah's father!"

"He's a complete prick who's entirely incapable of keeping it in his pants! You were doing just fine without him! Suck his bank account dry with child support payments and tell him to piss off!"

"He loves me!"

"He loves that you got a boob job! Except Rebecca Rider had hers done and they're at least a double Z cup now, so obviously he's much more interested in shagging her than he is you! Or he would be if he thought he couldn't get away with having it off with both of you at the same time! He's probably over at her place now! They're probably at it like rabbits!"

There was a long pause as Cleo at long last discarded the dirty nappy into a bag and reached for a clean one. She glanced over her shoulder to see the stunned look upon her sister's face and barely resisted the urge to sigh.

"Why...why do you always have to...to be such a bitch?" the blonde haired sister squeaked, sounding bordering on tearful.

"I'm not being a bitch," Cleo told her. "I'm just being honest. You should tell him to take a hike, Bowie. He's a crap dad and both you and 'Lilah are better off without him." Nappy finally secure about the baby's middle, she reached to scoop the baby up into her arms, grinning quite manically at it as she exclaimed: "There! No more stinky 'Lilah! That's better, isn't it? Yes it is, that's better!"

"D'you think...maybe I could borrow a tenner?" Bowie asked as Cleo set about pulling Delilah's skirt back down around her legs. "I um...I'm not getting paid yet and I...I need money for nappies...Bradley...Bradley says he hasn't got any..."

"Been wasting money on his car again, has he?" Cleo muttered disapprovingly. "You know if I ever run into him at the shops or something I'm going to punch him in his stupid face..." Nevertheless, Cleo followed Bowie into the kitchen and as the elder sister set about washing her hands, scrubbing them red raw and coating them in soap, Cleo went to fetch her purse, baby balanced precariously upon her hip as she extracted a twenty pound note from her purse.

"Hold this for Mummy, 'Lilah." she suggested, pressing the note into the baby's podgy fist, and the infant promptly set about attempting to eat it.

"It's all a bit rich, you know." Bowie said as she reached to dry her hands upon a tea towel. "You banging on about Bradley when you're so rubbish at relationships yourself."

"I'm better at them than you. I never got myself knocked up by a complete prat." Cleo retorted, instantly irked. She was quite sick of people lecturing her about her love life. It was bad enough Carrie bringing it up every time they set eyes upon each other than Bowie joining in too.

"That's quite surprising, really." Bowie told her sourly. "You've slept with half the guys in Eddington, you're like the town bicycle, you'd think it'd happen to you eventually..."

"Now who's being a bitch?" Cleo asked, striding across the kitchen in order to dump Delilah unceremoniously in her mother's arms. "You make me sound like a right slapper!"

Bowie opened her mouth, probably about to retort some sort of agreement, only to promptly close it again.

"Are you coming for Sunday dinner back home?" she asked instead, rather as if not an unpleasant word had passed between them. As usual Cleo consented to pretending she was not in the least bit offended and said:

"Yeah, I am."

"Great, I'll tell Mum. We're cooking roast beef."

"Cool."

"And mashed potato and spinach."

"Nice."

The pair of them lapsed into silence and Bowie reached to prise the now soggy bank note out of Delilah's grasp.

"Thanks." she told her sister quietly, sounding a little embarrassed as she smiled gratefully.

"Any time." Cleo told her, equally as quiet, and for a moment they simply smiled at one another, before Cleo leant forward and blew a loud raspberry upon Delilah's forehead, causing the baby to shriek in excitement. "Go on," the dark haired sister instructed. "Get home, Mum'll be wondering where you are and Craig'll be here in a minute."

She'd been looking forward to Craig coming for days. She hadn't seen him for almost a week because he had been working overtime in the builders' yard whilst she had found herself working into the evening on a garden she had been doing up for one of the larger houses a couple of blocks past Carrie's old house. They had resorted to frequent text messages, but it hadn't really been the same. In all honesty, Cleo was really beginning to miss him...

She'd never really missed somebody like that before. She'd never really had a boyfriend who she longed to see each day, or a boyfriend she felt sad to see leave the house...

Or a boyfriend she actually considered to be her boyfriend and not just the bloke she was currently sleeping with, even.

It was quite a scary feeling, if truth be told.

Once she had said goodbye to her sister and her niece, she did a quick sweep of the house, straightening cushions and attempting feebly to make the place look a little less like a mess. Once satisfied this was an entirely hopeless endeavour she went to change into some clean clothes and dragged a comb through her hair, frowning at herself in the mirror and musing that really she could use a haircut. Then she went to sit upon the stairs and wait impatiently for Craig to arrive.

He appeared upon her doorstep some fifteen minutes later, casually dishevelled and dressed in an uncharacteristically smart looking shirt, which, he informed her as he stepped through the front door, he had worn to a job interview that morning.

"It was that police job my dad suggested." he told her as she pushed the door shut behind him, and she asked:

"How was it?"

"It went pretty good, I think."

"My best mate's mother-in-law's in the police or something." Cleo recalled as she turned back to face him, frowning a little. "Well, she's either in the police or she's some sort of female version of Superman...or something halfway between the two, I don't know for sure..." she trailed off, shrugging as she mumbled: "That's what Carrie says, anyway, and...you know...Carrie's always been a bit mental and everything..."

Craig offered her a raised eyebrow as he shrugged off his jacket.

"_You're_ mental." he told her, shaking his head, and she smirked.

"Well obviously I am if I'm going to end up dating a copper!" she teased. "You'll end up all serious and boring and it'll be dead dull!"

"Dull?" Craig exclaimed in mock-offence, and with that he promptly lunged forwards, throwing his arms around her and causing her to stumble back against the front door. "I'll give you dull!"

The door handle was digging into the small of her back, but Cleo found that soon enough she didn't notice, she was much too preoccupied by his wandering hands and his lips and after a short while she managed to drag her own lips free from his just long enough to half-gasp:

"D'you want to go upstairs?"

"Isn't that a bit boring?" he murmured into the crook of her neck, and after a snigger she suggested:

"Sofa, then?"

He seemingly wasn't listening for she promptly drew in a deep breath at the sound of a zip being undone. He was just reaching to fiddle somewhat unsuccessfully with the belt about her hips when quite suddenly the door they were pressed against gave a distinct shudder as outside somebody banged loudly upon the brass door knocker. The two of them leapt away, hastily scrambling to redo up buckles and zips as a voice called:

"AUNTIE CLEO!"

"Bloody hell!" Cleo hissed as Craig hastily yanked his trousers a little too high up his waist until they looked faintly ridiculous. "In the sitting room, quick!"

No sooner had Craig stumbled out of sight, Cleo reached to yank the front door open to reveal Carrie and Imogen, the little girl clutching hold of a very familiar looking overnight bag.

"Oh my god!" Cleo groaned, expression growing momentarily murderous as she stepped aside to let them in. "He better be dead or something, because I swear..."

"Cleo!" Carrie hissed, landing a hefty slap upon her arm as she passed. "Really...!"

"Alright, alright...sorry..." Cleo mumbled, frowning deeply as she silently admitted to herself that she was probably being a little harsh.

"You did say any time." Carrie reminded her as Imogen made a skipping beeline for the kitchen.

"Well yes, I know that's what I said, Carrie! But...well..."

"I know. It's a lot to ask, I know that...but you're good with her and...and it's sort of an emergency."

"It is?"

"Sort of..."

"What's happened?"

"It's Dora. She's...well she's struggling."

"Oh, right."

"I'm sorry to just turn up like this, but I really think...as a family...we need, you know, an evening..."

"Right..."

_CRASH!_

Cleo spun around just in time to see the large jar that she had set down upon her kitchen table smash upon the tiles, leaking its earthy contents all over the floor.

"Bloody hell!" she cried, reaching to grasp fistfuls of hair in horror as Imogen stared down at the mess at her feet, expression vaguely regretful. "I had that shipped in from AMERICA! Do you have any idea how much that bloody costs..."

"It's mud, Auntie Cleo." Imogen informed her, just in case she hadn't noticed, and Cleo very nearly bit through her tongue in order to stop a furious retort.

"Oh dear..." Carrie said, hurrying down the hallway towards the chaos. "I'm sorry, I'll...I'll clean it up...don't wipe it on your dress Immy for goodness sake!"

"It's not just mud!" Cleo cried as Craig appeared at the doorway, peering curiously out at the commotion. "It's...it's Salem soil, it's one of the most powerful sources of magic in..."

"There's a worm in it!" Imogen shrieked excitedly as Carrie hastily set about sweeping the dirt away with a dustpan and brush. "Can we keep it, Mummy?"

"No you can't keep it!" Cleo snapped in fury. "For starters it isn't even yours..."

"Is it your worm, Auntie Cleo? What's his name? No, no! Let's guess! I think...I think his name's Herbert...Herbert the Worm..."

Cleo was very close to tearing her hair out in chunks when Carrie finally lifted Imogen back into the hallway away from any stray shards of shattered jar.

"Go and apologise to Auntie Cleo for breaking her jar, Imogen." Carrie instructed, giving the child a firm push in the right direction, only for the child to pause, having caught sight of Craig in the doorway to the sitting.

"There's a strange man in your house, Auntie Cleo." the child announced, and before Cleo could snap at her again, Carrie had reminded her:

"You've met Craig before, haven't you Immy?" To the man in question the mother added a slightly abashed. "Hi..."

"Evening." Craig greeted, and with that he leant down to add: "Hello Imogen."

"You've got a funny voice." the child said, and Cleo promptly snatched up the overnight bag that Carrie had abandoned at the bottom of the stairs, striding forward to deposit it into Imogen's arms.

"He's _Welsh_." she informed the girl flatly, before instructing: "Take your stuff upstairs, kid! Before you break something else!" As Imogen bolted noisily up the stairs, she added: "AND STAY OUT OF MY WARDROBE!"

"Thanks, Cleo." Carrie said as her friend shook her head despairingly, muttering:

"Little sod..."

"Sorry to interrupt your evening." Carrie went on, cheeks warming a little. "I wouldn't if it wasn't important...I'll...I'll take her over to the twins or one of Ted's relatives next time. Promise."

"It's alright." Cleo muttered automatically, despite her disappointment. "We don't mind, do we Craig? We were just...watching TV...so...you know..."

"I've already given her dinner and I'll be round to get her at seven sharp, so you won't be late for work."

"Great."

"I need to go."

"Of course you do."

"Yep...I'll um...I'll see you in the morning!"

No sooner had the door clicked shut behind Carrie a moment later, Craig wondered:

"Can you hear running water?"

Cleo's gaze instantly snapped over to the stairs.  
>"KID? GET OUT OF THAT SHOWER!"<p>

The Leaky Cauldron seemed unusually busy for a weekday evening and Carrie felt quite surprised that Teddy managed to locate a free table set in one corner close to the door. Carrie sat down whilst Teddy went to fetch them each a drink, and the muggle observed the pub's various visitors. A cluster of gossiping witches had gathered around the table to her right, leaning in towards one another and babbling excitedly at what Carrie expected was close to a hundred syllables a second. Behind their table sat a lone wizard wearing an oversized and slightly floppy hat of midnight blue, his long beard curly and pearly white. He appeared to be midway through eating a bowlful of broth of some description and was chewing pensively upon the end of his spoon. The bar itself was barely visible from a horde of rowdy wizards and witches who were all dressed in identical robes of bright red, a mythical beast of some description emblazoned in black upon their backs. Carrie supposed them to be a Quidditch team of some sort, likely celebrating a victory. All save one woman, who was sat upon a bar stool, gazing fixatedly into her glass of fire whiskey. Carrie had never seen a woman quite like her. Even whilst she was sitting, Carrie could tell that she was at least half a head taller than many of her male companions. She had arms like tree trunks and short cropped hair that didn't make her looked much like a woman at all, though her face itself seemed narrow, ending in a pointy chin that seemed utterly dwarfed by her broad shoulders.

She had to be a Beater. There was no doubt about it.  
>Carrie stared at her curiously, and quite suddenly the witch's gaze snapped up to look at the muggle, very nearly making Carrie jump.<p>

It was at that precise moment that Carrie noticed a draft from the door being pushed open and she glanced round to see Remus and Dora stepping through the doorway.

The Deputy Head of Aurors looked to be in a somewhat better state than Carrie had witnessed earlier, though she still seemed pale and her hair, though not grey, was dull and mousey, scraped back from her face and tied tightly at the nape of her neck. She had donned a set of pristine, freshly ironed robes that Carrie had never seen before, and as the witch slipped silently into a seat Carrie noted the vividly patriotic shades of red, white and blue and asked:

"New uniform, Dora?"

The witch smiled thinly, but said nothing.

"What're you drinking?" Remus murmured into her ear, and Dora frowned ever so slightly before deciding:

"Orange juice."

And with that, Remus disappeared off into the crowd.

Silence fell between the two who remained, and Carrie tried her best to think of what to say. Dora set about gazing fixatedly at an empty glass that had been left upon the table and Carrie concluded that Remus had probably had a job persuading her to turn up.

The muggle reached to snatch up the dog-eared dinner menu, opening it so that she could gaze down at what was on offer.

"I'm starving, aren't you?" she mumbled, wrinkling her nose a little at the mention of the pea soup. "I could probably eat two of...of anything on here. What're you going to have?"

"They say the pea soup's quite literally to die for." Dora mumbled after a pause, and when Carrie dropped the menu to the table in order to offer her a broad grin at the joke she raised an eyebrow as if she didn't think herself amusing in the slightest.

"Have you ever tried it?" Carrie asked, refusing to be anything but cheerful, but the witch merely admitted:

"No."

Carrie sat a little straighter in her seat, determined to clear the air.

"Listen," she said, folding her hands purposefully in her lap. "About earlier..." She ignored the witch's visible flinch. "Let's all just forget it! What we need to do is...is pick ourselves up again, give ourselves a good dust off and keep on...keep on going! Right?"

Again, Dora merely smiled thinly.

"You're going to be alright." Carrie insisted stubbornly. "We all are. Now, I'm having Shepard's pie, what about you?"

"I'm not terribly hungry."

"Well that's not fighting talk, is it? You can have the bangers and mash with gravy, I had it last time, it's very nice."

The witch gave a worryingly grim chuckle.

"Fighting talk...!" she muttered, shaking her head, and Carrie glanced over towards the bar searchingly in an attempt to stop herself scowling in frustration.

It was then that she noticed the Beater woman was still watching them.

"Doesn't she have anything better to look at?" Carrie muttered irritably, the woman's gaze upon her making her feel a little uncomfortable, and Dora looked round to see who she was talking about.

The two witch's met one another's gaze and the stranger offered the Auror a toothy grin.

Dora seemingly forced a broad smile of her own onto her face and gave a polite nod.

"Do you know her?" Carrie asked as the Auror turned away again, reaching to pick up the menu.

"I know of her..." she said, sounding disinterested, and quite suddenly Carrie heard the sound of a stool scraping against the flagstone floor.

The stranger had risen to her feet, still grinning broadly, and Carrie hastily looked back at Dora when she glimpsed the woman making a beeline for their table.

Dora stared stubbornly at the menu as a shadow fell across the table, and only consented to looking up when a low, heavily accented voice inquired:

"Nymphadora Lupin, yes?"

The gossiping witches clustered around the next table suddenly went quiet and Carrie suddenly became aware that a large number of people appeared to be staring at them. The stranger towered over the table and as she stared down at Dora, Carrie could smell whiskey upon her breath.

"Yes. And you are Valbona Luga." Dora identified, smiling faintly.

"You watch me today at Qualifiers." Valbona Luga said, expression rather smug. "I see you with the other British, sitting in the stands."

"That's right. Congratulations on getting through, Albania must be proud of you all." Dora commented brightly, and it suddenly occurred to Carrie that these were not Quidditch players at the bar, but the Albanian National Duelling Team.

Valbona Luga stepped forward again until there were precious few inches between the two witches and Carrie found herself leaning back a little in her seat.

"My brother Valon, he heard you join British team this year." Valbona Luga informed Dora, still grinning quite manically. "He says he knew you. He replied to your letters when you write to the Albanian Auror Department."

Dora visibly swallowed a lump in her throat.

"You write to our Minister for Magic to complain." Valbona went on, the smile suddenly vanishing from her face. "You say my brother is incompetent because he lose your paperwork."

Dora gave a rather pained half-chuckle.

"It's been two years and I still haven't gotten it back." she recalled lightly, only for the Albanian Auror to inform her flatly:

"They sack him. Thanks to you."

Carrie was certain the atmosphere had grown so tense that it could have been cut with a blunt knife. By now the entire pub had grown silent, the only movement came as out of the corner of her eye Carrie spotted Remus and Teddy sidling carefully through the crowd towards them.

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Dora said, sitting a little straighter in her seat, and Carrie wondered how she did not wrinkle her nose at the smell upon the woman's breath. "But at the same time, what the Albanian Minister for Magic chooses to do with the information I gave him has nothing to do with me..."

And suddenly Valbona Luga threw back her head and gave such a laugh that the witches at the next table all jumped.

"Ah!" the Albanian witch exclaimed, flinging a hefty arm around her fellow Auror's shoulders, hand grasping Dora's shoulder so tightly that her knuckles grew instantly white. "Of course not! Of course it not your fault! No, no, no, of course not!"

Carrie let out a breath that she hadn't noticed that she had been holding...

And then Valbona Luga bent forward, yanking Dora sideways in her seat until she could whisper in the metamorphmagus' ear.

"My brother," she hissed, as Dora drew in a sharp breath "He tell me to _crush you like bug_!"

Carrie's eyes widened in shock as the Albanian released Dora abruptly, straightening up.

And Dora carefully reached to straighten her robes before turning in her seat to smile pleasantly up at the witch, her dark eyes suddenly piercing as she inquired:

"And tell me, Ms Luga: Do you have cockroaches in Albania?"


	8. Tabloids and Tantrums

_Note: This is a short chapter, I'm afraid, but I thought it was a good point to end on! The next chapter will be far more interesting as three major events will occur!_

_This chapter is dedicated to WolfMarauder, for making an interesting suggestion about Dora's new nemesis!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**8: Tabloids and Tantrums**

"You know," Carrie said as she and Dora led the way down the dark cobbled street, Remus and Teddy just behind them having abandoned their plans for dinner entirely. "Nobody's even told me what exactly goes on at these qualifiers...or at the championships in general!"

"Well," Dora murmured, gaze upon her boots as they passed the shuttered windows of Flourish and Blots bookshop, "the first thing to remember about the National Duelling Championships is that the individual winner is somewhat irrelevant, or so they say. It's all more to do with teamwork and pride in your country as a whole." The Auror reached to dust an invisible spec of dirt from her robes before explaining: "There are three rounds in total: the qualifiers, the individual heats and the final knock out. Every country who enters is paired up with another at random for their first round. The qualifiers are more about tactics than pure duelling ability. The National Duelling Association sets up a different skirmish each year, but they usually involve some sort of timed activity – which team can defend an area of the arena for the longest, which team can capture the opponents' flag in the shortest space of time, that sort of thing. The winning teams from the qualifiers progress into the second round of individual heats. Each Auror competes in five timed duels against five different opponents in order to score as many points as possible...the points system is ridiculously complicated. If you knock out your opponent or injure them severely enough that they are unable to continue the duel you earn yourself and your team ten points. You get about eight points if you win by disarming your opponent. Then there are various other factors that determine points, such as where you strike an opponent, how complex the spell you used was, how well it was cast and so on. Each country ends up with a total score and the top two teams go through to the final. They don't reveal who the best individual scorers were until the final is over. In the final the two teams strategically line themselves up on the benches. The first Auror from each team will begin to duel, and each time one of them is disarmed, injured severely or knocked unconscious they are replaced by the next Auror in line from their team. Whichever team has the last Auror standing wins the championships and the Auror who scored the highest number of points in the second round from that team is named National Duelling Champion."

"Who won last year?" Carrie wondered as they paused in their strolling to sink down onto a wooden bench outside of the ice cream parlour, and as Remus and Teddy sat down either side of them, Teddy recalled:

"Bjoern Smidt of Germany."

"And before that?"

"Edward Simmons. American."

"No, he was the year beforehand." Dora pointed out, apparently finding this a reason to scowl. After Smidt it was that witch from Croatia. The one with the weird runes tattooed on her cheek."

"Oh yeah! I remember her...she was an oddball, wasn't she?"

"I only saw her on the front page of the Prophet. I remember the year Simmons won though, that was the year America lost to Albania in the finals, but then there was talk of rule breaking and Albania got disqualified."

"Albania?" Carrie felt something in her stomach twisting uncomfortably. "Why did they do that?"

"They've been appealing against it ever since." Dora recalled, shaking her head. "But America hadn't won for years, they weren't about to hand the victory back! Nobody wanted a fuss, but everybody knew that Albania hadn't really broken the rules. There's nothing to say a half-giant can't enter..."

"There should be," Teddy grunted disapprovingly. "You can chuck spells at them all day long and not knock them out! That's an unfair advantage!"

"Don't exaggerate." Dora told him, rolling her eyes. "If we're talking about unfair advantages they ought kick me out too whilst they're at it! Anyway, Albania got disqualified when it got into the press that one of their Aurors was in actual fact half-giant..."

Thinking of just how enormous Valbona Luga had been in stature, Carrie immediately wondered:

"That wouldn't happen to have been your good friend back at the pub, would it?"

"That's her, yes." Dora agreed warily. "There was a huge outcry over the whole incident because a number of countries had just signed a joint declaration for giants' rights and Albania didn't compete the following year. But the National Duelling Association realised that they had made an unfair and prejudice judgement, so they made a public apology. And here we are now, Albania's back, America got to keep their trophy, Valbona Luga gets to compete again and everybody's happy..."

"Except for you," Teddy pointed out cheerfully. "Because she plans on murdering you in front of a massive crowd of thousands of spectators."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ted." Dora muttered, sounding distinctly bad-tempered. "What she said was just a figure of speech. This is a duelling contest, not the Battle of bloody Hogwarts..."

_BATTLE LINES DRAWN AFTER PUB SCRAP DECLARES WAR BETWEEN BRITISH AND ALBANIAN AURORS! _

_Albanian Dueller to Britain's Deputy: Prepare to get crushed!_

As she gazed down at the front of the Daily Prophet the next morning, halfway through chewing upon a piece of jam on toast, Carrie Lupin heard a voice exclaim from over her shoulder:

"Oh bloody hell!"

Carrie promptly found the newspaper snatched from her grasp as Dora shot out of the kitchen, headed for the stairs as she shouted: "REMUS? HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?"

Carrie immediately jumped to her feet, abandoning her half eaten toast upon her plate as she bolted after the witch, who was already stomping her way up the steps.

Carrie reached the landing just in time to watch Dora collapse down upon the bed as Remus straightened out the paper so that he could examine the front page. The werewolf's brow creased into a deep frown as his wife complained:

"Why can't I have a quiet life?"

"You're the Deputy Head of Aurors." Remus murmured as he squinted down at the photograph of the Albanian half-giant's scowling face that had been emblazoned underneath the headline. "Quiet doesn't really happen to you..."

Dora reached to bury her face in her hands with an audible groan.

"What's wrong with people?" she moaned as Carrie went to stand at the side of the bed so that she could read the article for herself. "Why do they always want to turn it into some sort of blood sport or a Wizarding World War...this isn't what I signed up for, it's really, really not..."

_Upon the eve of Britain's qualifier for this year's National Duelling Championships, patrons of London's Leaky Cauldron pub witnessed a verbal clash between Albanian Dueller Valbona Luga and our own Deputy Head of Aurors, Nymphadora Lupin, a confrontation which may well be a telling sign of things to come! _

_Ms Luga, who is best known for her unjust disqualification in the championship final some years previously, appears to be back and looking for vengeance this year! She, along with the rest of her team, sailed through their qualifier yesterday afternoon, with Ms. Luga personally knocking five of Spain's six duellers unconscious by half time, which critics say is a record only beaten by Italy's Cesare Rivinti back in 1862. Witness Louisa Dobbs who was with friends at the Leaky Cauldron yesterday evening told reporters:_

"_There was an extremely tense atmosphere in the pub and my friends and I found Ms Luga's manner extremely abrupt and threatening. We could not hear all of what she said to the Deputy Head of Aurors, but she had a face like thunder and even laid her hands upon her! It was dreadful behaviour and not at all what we are used to in the Leaky." _

_Sources claim that Ms. Luga holds Mrs. Lupin responsible for the dismissal of her half-brother from his position within the Albanian Auror department, after a large number of British documents that Mrs. Lupin had loaned the department went missing._

"_She is terribly bitter about it." Albania's representative in charge of organising their team during their stay in Britain explained. "But she is very professional and tries very hard not to hold a grudge." _

_Mrs. Lupin, former member of the Order of the Phoenix, is said to have reacted exceptionally calmly when Ms. Luga confronted her, as witness Fred Winton told us after the incident:_

"_She was extremely cool and collected, it was very impressive." Mr. Winton said, "Hats off to her, I say!" _

_Protegee of celebrated Auror Alastor Moody, Mrs. Lupin, who fought against Voldemort's Death Eaters during the Second Wizarding War, has three decades of experience in the Auror department under her belt, compared to Ms. Luga's ten years, and whilst Ms. Luga's status as a half-giant is seen by many as a great advantage, Mrs. Lupin's own blood might well prove her to be a force to be reckoned with. It is common knowledge that she is in actual fact the niece of notorious Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange._

"_She's a Black." Auror and fellow teammate Jasmine Wickes pointed out this evening when our reporters caught her leaving the Ministry late last night. "There's talent in that blood, you know, and whether they choose to use it for good or sinister means is irrelevant. You didn't screw with Bellatrix Lestrange, everybody knows that. And you don't screw with Tonks, either. Valbona Luga ought learn to know better because she's setting herself up for a very big fall!"_

_When questioned over rumours of Mrs. Lupin's deteriorating health due to overwork these past few weeks, Ms. Wickes assured us that it was all a pack of lies._

"_I think it's disgraceful that people would start such silly rumours just because she hasn't joined the rest of us at all of the recent public appearances. Yes, she's very busy, of course she is, she's the Deputy Head of the department! She puts matters of public safety before press conferences, and rightly so! The world doesn't stop because of this competition, you know! You can consider those rumours completely squashed: Tonks is as fit and healthy as the rest of us! I was with her for several hours this afternoon and she was absolutely fine!"_

_An insider from the Auror department who wishes to remain anonymous, however, had a different story to tell:_

"_We're all very worried about her." he admitted. "She doesn't look at all well, in fact she looks fit to drop every time I set eyes upon her. Mr. Potter is extremely concerned, in fact I hear he and Minister Shacklebolt have had several meetings to discuss the situation."_

_When confronted outside of his house some hour later, however, Head of Aurors Harry Potter insisted that no such meetings had taken place._

"_Tonks is fine." he assured our reporter. "I have every confidence in her. If she was struggling she would tell me."_

_With Britain's qualifier set for this afternoon the entire country will be watching their Deputy Head of Aurors and the rest of the British team, and perhaps Ms. Luga ought take note too!_

"Well at least Harry and Jasmine have stuck up for you." Carrie reasoned, but Dora merely rolled onto her side until she could bury her face in the duvet.

"Sod it all," the Auror mumbled. "I'm not speaking to anybody. If I catch sight of some idiot with a press pass hanging round their neck this afternoon I'm going to strangle them with it."

"Have you had breakfast?" Remus asked her, and she instantly snapped:

"I'm not hungry!"

"Tough luck," the werewolf said, reaching to throw back the duvet, dropping the newspaper down onto the bedside table. "You need to eat."

"I don't have long." Dora mumbled dismally. "Harry says he needs me to cover for him whilst he and Ron go...somewhere or other. It's a Deadly Important Meeting, apparently."

"I need to pick Imogen up." Carrie said, glancing at the clock upon the other bedside table. "Cleo'll kill me if I make her late for work."

Cleo, Carrie concluded a short while later when she arrived at her fellow muggle's house to collect her daughter, might possible have been tempted to kill her anyway, whether she was late for work or not.

"Thank God!" Cleo exclaimed as she wrenched open the door, an ear-splitting shrieking piercing Carrie's ears. "Take the little sod away, for goodness sake, she's being utterly hysterical!"

As Cleo stepped aside, Carrie stepped across the threshold to find Imogen lying sprawled upon the floor, kicking her legs at the wall as she shrieked for all she was worth.

"What's wrong?" Carrie half-shouted over the din, and Cleo told her:

"I have no idea! I told her you were coming to take her back to Remus and Dora's and she just went utterly mental!"

Frowning deeply, Carrie stepped forward until she was stood looking down at the wild child, face tinging pink in embarrassment.  
>"IMOGEN LUPIN!" she cried, folding her arms firmly across her chest. "What on earth is all this noise for? Stop kicking Auntie Cleo's wall and stand up!"<p>

"N-OOOO!" Imogen shrieked, kicking harder than ever, and her mother reached down to grasp her by the arms, tugging her firmly up onto her feet, causing the child to go instantly limp.

"No? Goodness me! Just you wait until we get to your grandparents' house young lady! There will be no ice cream at lunchtime, I can tell you that! Now stand up and apologise to Auntie Cleo this instant! Just think, she'll never have you stay again if you insist on throwing such dreadful tantrums!"

"I WANT TO GO HOME!" Imogen bawled, face contorting woefully as she continued to allow herself to dangle stubbornly from her mother's arms.

"We're going to Nana and Grandad's house."

"NO!"

"It isn't up for discussion! Now put your feet down! Auntie Cleo needs to go to work! Hurry up and apologise, otherwise we'll both leave without you and you can sit here on your own for the rest of the day and think about what you've done. What's Grandad going to say when I tell him about all of this? He'll be awfully disappointed, won't he?"

At mention of her Grandfather, Imogen slumped so suddenly towards the floor that Carrie very nearly lost her grip upon her, but the little girl consented to planting her feet firmly upon the ground with a sniff.

"But I have to go...go home, Mummy..." she murmured dejectedly.

"Why, love? You've got plenty of toys at Nana and Grandad's house, haven't you?"

"But Mummy!"

"Don't be silly, Imogen. Say sorry to Auntie Cleo now, there's a good girl."

The miserable child offered Cleo a mumbled apology as Carrie went to snatch up her overnight bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"I have no idea what's come over her." Carrie said as she ushered Imogen out of the front door.

"Perhaps it's her grandad." Cleo suggested as she snatched up her keys from their hook beside the door, shoving them into her pocket. "I don't suppose it's much good for her, seeing him ill."

As she reached to take hold of Imogen by the hand, Carrie felt as if a weight had dropped onto her chest.

"No..." she mumbled as Cleo pulled the door shut behind them. "I don't suppose it does..."

She hadn't really given much thought to that.

Imogen spent most of her time these days with Remus, wherever he happened to be. Since witnessing his fall in the kitchen, Imogen had become increasingly clingy to her grandfather, indeed sometimes Carrie had trouble prising her away from him each evening to take her home to bed. Thinking about it, Carrie thought it somewhat unnatural for a child as young as Imogen to act in quite the way that she did; sitting silently upon the bed at the werewolf's side as he slept, fetching him countless glasses of water, stroking his hair as he fell asleep in the armchair downstairs and demanding Carrie be quiet should she enter the room. Carrie had even caught her pretending to read him one of her storybooks when he had been sleeping the previous afternoon.

By the time they had bid Cleo goodbye, parting at her garden gate, and had reached the end of the road, Carrie was beginning to feel distinctly wretched.

_Merlin_, she thought as she tugged Imogen to a halt. _I'm a bad mother..._

"Immy love," she said turning to look down at the girl, reaching to smooth her hair that, though brushed, had become quite disarrayed from her tantrum. "Tell Mummy...why don't you want to go to Nana and Grandad's house? Is...is it because of Grandad? Because Grandad is feeling poorly?"

Imogen simply stared at her shoes.

"You know, Sweetheart," Carrie told her, grip upon her hand tightening reassuringly. "It's alright, you know. Grandad's in...in good hands, Nana and I are taking good care of him. And...and I'm sure he'd be...he'd be happy if you were to...go and play in the garden for a while, or...or do some colouring downstairs whilst he has a sleep..."

The way in which Imogen's face promptly contorted suggested that she did not agree with this idea in the slightest, and she promptly shook her head vigorously.

"You could draw him a nice picture, couldn't you? I bet he'd like that, wouldn't he?" Carrie said, and Imogen instantly gave her foot a firm little stamp.

"I WANT TO GO HOME!" the little girl shrieked, little hands balling into fists, and Carrie very nearly sighed.

"And why's that, love?"

"BECAUSE! I WANT TO!"

"It's a very long walk though, isn't it? You'll get awfully tired legs..."

"N-O!"

"Now come along, let's get going and perhaps we can pop home via the floo once Grandad's settled."

Imogen whined and complained the entire way back to the house, so much so that Carrie finally relented and, with a brief call to Remus who was sat reading the rest of that morning's Daily Prophet in the kitchen, still clad in his pyjamas and dressing gown, she flooed back to the flat with Imogen in tow.

Without so much as a word, Imogen bolted into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Five minutes!" Carrie called after her. "Get some toys and then we're going!"

The muggle wandered into the kitchen and was just filling the sink with water to wash up the items Teddy had abandoned from breakfast earlier that morning when she heard the bedroom door being flung open again and Imogen came to a skidding halt in the doorway.  
>"I want Grandad!" the little girl announced, as her mother turned around to look at her with a deep frown.<p>

"You want, you want!" Carrie grumbled, looking the girl up and down. "Where are these toys you're so desperate for, then?"

Imogen chewed thoughtfully upon her lip before turning to bolt back into her bedroom, reappearing a moment later with a tangled skipping rope dragging along the floor after her.

"Is that it?" Carrie asked, utterly exasperated, and the child gave a firm nod.

Carrie blinked.

"You kicked up a massive fuss like that for...a skipping rope?"

Again, Imogen nodded.

"It's just started to rain, Imogen!"

Imogen shrugged.

Carrie reached to fling the sponge she had just picked up back down beside the tap, wiping her damp hands upon the front of her jeans.

"Com on," she said, marching back across the kitchen and ushering Imogen back towards the floo. "Honestly, Imogen, this is utterly ridiculous..." As her daughter shuffled into the sitting room, Carrie paused to go to pull the child's bedroom door shut...

No sooner had she done so, Carrie was certain that she heard movement inside the room. Frowning, the muggle went to push the door open again, glancing searchingly around...

Nothing.

_Forget Dora_, the muggle mused as her gaze came to rest upon the elaborate chest of drawers, _I'm over-tired myself! _

She had imagined the noise, she was sure.

She hastily pulled the door shut again, not keen to gaze at the chest of drawers for much longer, and with a heavy sigh she hurried into the sitting room and bundled Imogen back into the floo.


	9. A Reminder

_Note: I am officially finished with University for the year..._

_It doesn't feel like it. I've been very busy ever since I finished! _

_No, I'm not happy at all with the first half of this chapter. So don't bother complaining, I'm aware of how massively flawed it is! _

_This chapter is dedicated to **Louey06**, for beingi a relatively new face. (And if I'm wrong, it's dedicated to you for putting up with my total inability to be observant!) _

_Brief reminder: **If you are adding me on Pottermore please PM me and tell me who you are!** I've not had time to log on recently, but when I did just now I've had a couple of friends requests, which I randomly accepted, but I have no idea who you are!_

_In other news, the idea of adding pictures to stories on here got me massively over-excited and I've started to draw some in Photoshop. So far I've done the first 3 Meet the... stories. No laughing, please, I know I can't draw! :-)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**9: A Reminder**

It was, Caroline Lupin discovered as she and Imogen stumbled out of the fireplace and into the sitting room, surprising what could happen when you left a place for just a few short minutes.

Remus and Dora's sitting room had been empty when she had left.

Now it was entirely crammed full of people.

At the sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Molly all crammed onto the sofa, Arthur sat in the armchair and Ginny, Bill, Charlie and George all sat upon the carpet, chattering away quite cheerfully, Carrie felt herself pale.

This, the muggle assumed as she reached somewhat feebly to dust the soot from Imogen's shoulders, was the Deadly Important Meeting that Harry and Ron had slipped away from the Ministry for, leaving Dora in charge.

"Well that's one theory squashed!" Ron observed cheerfully as he looked up at the two arrivals. "You owe me a galleon, George! You said Remus owled because something had happened to Carrie! It can't be that if she's here too..."

"Why would you think it had anything to do with me?" Carrie asked warily, and as he begrudgingly dug a shiny gold coin out of his pocket, George pointed out:

"Well it usually is..."

Had she not felt so utterly bleak at the sight of all of their smiling faces, Carrie might very well have felt indigent.

"Well obviously it's about Tonks." Harry pointed out as George flicked the coin into Ron's lap. "It's going to be a surprise or something...something for this afternoon!"

This theory appeared to be very popular because everybody began speaking at once.

"We should all go! Cheer her and the others on!"

"I think we should take the Order banner with us..."

"Make up a rhyme, George! Something funny, she'd laugh at that..."

"...and I could make tea and we can all come back and celebrate Britain winning...because we will win, obviously..."

"Where's Remus?" Carrie asked, failing not to sound dull, but her lack of cheer was entirely lost on the others as Arthur informed her:

"He's upstairs, I think! Said he'd be down in a minute or two!"

Imogen instantly bolted for the stairs, and Carrie slowly went after her, rather wishing that she had stayed back at the flat. She was just about to mount the steps when there came a knocking at the front door, and when she went to pull it open she found herself faced with yet another familiar face.

"Has it started yet, Caroline?" Minerva McGonnogal asked as she stepped surprisingly nimbly over the threshold, walking cane in one hand as she reached to straighten her hat. "I've only just received Remus' owl...wretched creature looked as if it had taken a swim in the lake..."

"Um..." Carrie mumbled as she reached to close the door, only for a voice to call:

"Wait!"

"Goodness, everybody's here..." the muggle observed despairingly as Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt came striding briskly up the driveway, and as she reached to hang her hat upon the cloak stand, McGonnogal waved a dismissive hand.

"Of course they are, this is official Order business!"

"Is it?" Carrie wondered, frowning deeply, and the Headmistress turned to offer her a somewhat bewildered look as she insisted:

"Yes, of course! Good morning, Minister!"

"Good morning, Minerva!"

"Escaped the photographers, I see!"

"Indeed I have! They've been hounding me all morning, ever since that ridiculous article got published in the Prophet first thing! Honestly, it's quite ridiculous! Harry and I have meetings most days! If I were worried about Tonks I'd summon _her_ into my office, not anybody else..."

"Have you seen her recently?"

"I saw her not ten minutes ago...or heard her, perhaps. Anybody who can shout and swear so colourfully at a roomful of Auror cadets this time of morning can't be anything but healthy..."

"Alastor would be proud."

"There's no doubt!"

Carrie was beginning to feel somewhat sickly as she watched them troop into the sitting room to join the others, and as another round of cheery greetings were exchanged the muggle made for the stairs again.

She found Remus sat upon the edge of his bed, hands clasped together as he stared fixatedly at his feet. Imogen was sat serenely upon the bed just behind him, her head resting against his back.

"I had no idea..." Carrie murmured as she came to lean against the doorframe. "I didn't know you were going to...now, I mean..."

"Now's as good a time as any." Remus reasoned quietly, not bothering to look up. "Dora isn't here..."

"I rather think she'd want to be."

"I rather think she'd better not be. Not in her state."

"And what about your state?" Carrie wondered, pausing to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat as she took in his pale, weary face and uneasy shifting of his feet. "Let...let me do it...I can...I can tell them..."

Remus gave a bleak chuckle.

"And what would you say?" he asked, at long last looking up at her. "What would you tell them, what would you tell my closest friends when I'm..." he caught himself just in time when he felt Imogen shift her weight against him, hurriedly amending: "When I'm hopeless?"

Carrie swallowed again, sucking in a deep, considering breath.

"I'd tell them to hope."

Remus attempted to smile, but managed little more than a twitch. As he slowly rose to his feet, leaving Imogen to flop back upon the duvet, the werewolf shook his head.

"I don't want their hope." he told the muggle as he shuffled towards the door. "I want their resignation. You can't always weather a storm by searching for rainbows, Carrie. Sometimes you have to see it all for what it really is and find the strength to stand up tall and get battered by it."

Carrie sat upon the bed with Imogen for some fifteen minutes, speaking of plans for Imogen to spend the afternoon with her Uncle Timothy and whether or not the rain might stop in time for him to take her to the park. Imogen was just peering in consideration out of the window at the sky, when Carrie at last found that sitting still was much too difficult for her.

"Why don't you be an angel, Immy," she suggested as she got to her feet. "And have a go at making Nana and Grandad's bed for them?"

As Imogen immediately leapt into action, her mother had no doubt that should she care to return to the bedroom in ten minutes time it would no doubt be in an utterly dreadful state. But in all honesty, Carrie didn't really care.

She crept down the stairs as if she ought not be going down at all, pausing halfway down to debate whether or not she really wanted to join in whatever morbid and painful discussion that was no doubt taking place in the sitting room...

It was deathly quiet for such a crowded space, and when she at last reached the doorway she found everybody sat or stood motionlessly, staring as Remus stood leant against the wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his gaze upon his feet.

"...and she...she can't possibly lift me on her own if I fall and...and Ted's never here he...he needs to pass his exams and...and Carrie can't either...and Imogen...Carrie always has Imogen and she...she's here every day just...watching me get...get worse..." he trailed off into silence, frowning deeply.

The room fell entirely silent.

Hermione was dabbing resolutely at her eyes with a tissue, Ron had his head in his hands and Molly had sunk back in her seat, eyes closed as if it were all rather too much for her...

And yet they all seemed remarkably calm. Remarkably composed...

Kingsley was frowning rather as if Remus had just informed him that Dora and Harry planned to take leave from work simultaneously on a Cadet Assessment Day. McGonnogal had reached to take off her glasses with a sigh and George was chewing upon his lip.

"I...don't know what to do..." Remus admitted quietly, and quite suddenly Ginny looked up from her inspection of the carpet and announced:

"I'll get some parchment and ink, shall I? We can draw up a rota."

And McGonnogal straightened up a little and requested:

"Lets have some volunteers from the men, then!"

And Charlie announced:

"I'm free most Mondays. What about you, George? You could come and stay here on Tuesdays, couldn't you?"

"Of course I could. Or Wednesdays, Angelina could watch the shop, she wouldn't mind at all."

As Ginny sidled past Carrie and made a beeline for the study, Ron suggested:

"Well I could do Wednesdays too, but I could go into work instead and Tonks could have the day off or something, that way she could put her feet up a while. Harry could reassign a case or two, couldn't you mate?"

Harry didn't respond, but nobody seemed to notice.

"Yes, you had better do that Ron," Molly agreed. "Tonks ought be at home as much as she can...I'll come and cook dinner every other day, save Carrie and Tonks the bother! Let Carrie take Imogen away for a while, it's dreadful for her to be stuck here all the time!"

"What else needs doing?"

"Hermione could do the weekly shop at the same time she does ours, couldn't you 'Mione?"

"Yes! You scribble a list down, Remus, and I'll pick it up for you..."

"What about Thursdays? I'm up early for work most Thursday mornings and I don't finish until late..."

"No, Thursdays aren't good for me, either..."

"What about you, Kingsley?"

"I meet with the Wizengamot on Thursday afternoons."

"What about you, Harry? Can you come and keep watch on Thursdays?"

"Harry can do Thursday mornings, can't you Harry?" Ginny announced as she swept back into the room, sat back down upon the floor and began to draw out a timetable.

Again, Harry said nothing.

It was then that Carrie finally got a good look at the Head of Aurors.

Apparently not everybody had managed to put aside their horror and grief quite so abruptly.

He was sat motionlessly upon the sofa, gazing across the room at Remus, tears slowly seeping silently from his eyes, sliding in salty trails down his cheeks.

Carrie had never in her life seen Harry Potter in tears.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, reaching to give his arm a firm squeeze, and he gave a small start, blinking rapidly.

"Yes...Thursdays, Fridays, whenever. I'll do it." the dark haired Auror mumbled, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Great." Hermione said, and as across the room Remus stared straight back at him, he turned to Hermione, eyes wide, panicked...

"Hermione," Carrie heard Harry breath, hands grasping fistfuls of his Auror robes in agitation. "Hermione, you know...you heard exactly what...what he said, didn't you?"

"Of course I did." Hermione muttered stiffly, snatching up her handkerchief to dab at the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes.

"Hermione...?"

"Harry?"

Harry swallowed again.

"He's...he's the only one...the only part of...of Mum and Dad and...and Sirius...that I've got left..."

There was a pained pause before Hermione muttered:

"I know..."

"Don't." Ginny muttered rather fiercely as she scrawled names down upon the parchment. "Not now. Just don't."

"Concentrate." Ron grunted in agreement, and all four of them looked up to stare at the werewolf, who looked down at the floor again.

"Don't let him leave the room." Carrie heard Ginny whisper as she scribbled out one name in favour of another.

"Why not?"

"Because I wouldn't dare cry in front of him. And if he goes I'm going to sob until it chokes me."

Ron gave a somewhat grim half-chuckle.

After some ten minutes of further organisation, Remus seemingly grew weary of being stared at, and he straightened up somewhat stiffly and wondered:

"Would anybody like a...a cup of tea?"

"Let me do it!" Molly exclaimed, practically shooting up out of her chair, a feat that Carrie might have been impressed with had she not been feeling so down, but Remus shook his head.

"No really," the werewolf insisted, shoulders hunching. "I'll do it...I can...I can manage perfectly well..."

No sooner had he shuffled out of the room, the Order's calm and business-like facade crumbled.

As promised, Ginny dissolved into tears, dropping the quill to the floor so that she could bury her face in her hands.

"Oh goodness!" Molly wailed, face contorting despairingly. "How utterly terrible! What on earth shall we do?"

"What's Tonks going to do?" Charlie wondered bleakly, and despite his earlier claims Kingsley murmured:

"I knew something was desperately wrong..."

"It's just horrible," Hermione admitted, head coming to rest against Ron's shoulder. "I just can't bear to even think of..."

"Don't say it." Harry whispered, visibly flinching. "I...I don't want to hear anybody say it...Remus saying it once is...is more than bad enough..."

"Trust Tonks to bottle it up." Bill complained. "Honestly, how long d'you suppose they've kept it from us? It's not...not right, it's not healthy..."

"Which idiot let her sign up for the Championship?" George asked somewhat accusingly, and both Harry and Kingsley insisted:

"It wasn't my idea."

"It's not too late, you know, we could kick her off and get somebody else to stand in..."

"No!" Carrie found herself half-shouting, "You can't do that!"

Everybody turned to stare at her as if she were quite mad, but the muggle folded her arms firmly across her chest.

"Don't stop her competing," she pleaded, gaze coming to rest upon Kingsley, "You can't, she...she needs to do it, it...it gives us all some hope..."

"Hope of what?" Ron grunted disapprovingly. "It's utterly ridiculous..."

"Hope she might win!" Carrie exclaimed, "Hope she might be National Duelling Champion and...and win a load of gold so...so they can pay for Remus to go to...to this clinic where they've been developing medicine or...or something..."

"She's doing it to buy medicine?" Harry said, eyes growing wide as his hands balled into fists in his lap. "Is she out of her bloody mind? How much does it cost? I'll empty my bloody vault...!"

"Nobody's slipping us a single knut." Remus' voice announced sternly from the doorway, and as an enormous tray laden with cups and a teapot levitated itself onto the coffee table in the corner, Harry grew so agitated at the notion that he leapt to his feet, narrowly sending the passing tray flying.

"Why not?" he cried, ignoring Ginny's hand reaching to grab hold of the back of his robes. "We'll all chip in! We'll...we'll all pay for it together!"

"Absolutely not." Remus said, ignoring Hermione as she rose from her seat and asked:

"Would you like my chair, Remus? I can sit on the floor..."

"But why not?" Harry demanded, and the werewolf calmly set about serving tea as if the Auror's outburst had not entirely registered with him.

"Because it's my life, Harry, not yours or anybody else's..."

"So?"

"I've been out of debt for almost an entire year, for the first time in my adult life. I'm not about to plummet straight back into it..."

"It wouldn't be a...a debt! We're not going to ask for the money back, for Merlin's sake!"

"I'm not a charity."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, only to simply gawp in horror at the side of the werewolf's head.

"It wouldn't be like that though, would it Remus?" Hermione tried, tugging worriedly at a strand of curly hair. "I mean...it's...not the same..."

"You're DYING!" Harry finally managed to point out, and everybody in the room visibly flinched. All except for Remus, who smiled grimly and recalled:

"I always hoped it would be this way, that I'd die without owing anybody anything..."

"No, Remus," Harry said, teeth gritted in his attempts to make the werewolf see sense. "I mean...you're dying! You might die!"

"I'm perfectly aware of that fact, thank you."

"You've done a whole lot for us over the years, Remus dear." Molly reasoned with a sniff, still dabbing the tears from her face with a lacy handkerchief. "Let...let us do something for you..."

"If not, screw doing it for you," Charlie put in. "Let us do it for Tonks!"

"Exactly! Let us do it for her and Teddy and poor little Imogen..."

Remus gave a rather shaky chuckle as he set about handing out cups of tea.

"You all think Dora wants your help? Who precisely do you suppose insisted we hide the truth from everybody for so long? Why do you think I made sure she wasn't here this morning? She's a one-witch-army, my wife. She wants to do it all on her own..."

"And...you're alright with that, are you?" Harry asked, face contorting rather furiously. "You're perfectly happy to sit back and...and let her get herself hexed and battered to within an inch of her life for money...whilst the rest of us just sit back and watch her?"

"Last I recall, getting hexed into oblivion for money is precisely what Tonks has been doing one way or another for the past thirty years or so..."

"Shut up, George! Seriously, it's mental!"

"Let Tonks compete."

At this sudden and firm insistence, everybody turned to look at the speaker in surprise.

Kingsley Shacklebolt folded his arms firmly across his chest, his mind apparently made up.

"But..." both Harry and Ron began, only for the Minister for Magic to insist:

"Let her compete."

"It's utterly foolish," Harry protested, "She's in no fit state..."

"Tonks is only doing what is necessary."

"It's not in the least bit necessary! She's...she's..."

"She's entirely helpless."

A bleak silence once again descended upon the room, and the Minister gazed around the gathered witches and wizards as if daring them to disagree with him.

"In times of crisis we must always be busy." he informed them sternly. "We must grasp hold of the situation presented to us and have some control over it, otherwise we find ourselves swept away, drowned! And there are some times in life, such as times like this, that we might resort to desperate and feeble measures because there simply is nothing else that we can do! Let Tonks compete in the Championship! It's the only thing keeping her afloat!"

"But we could...we could find the money..."

"We could do no such thing."

"But..."

"As Remus says, it's his life and not anybody else's. If he and Tonks are standing on their own two feet at last, if they can feel such relief and pride in that, then who are we to take it away from them? They've had that burden hanging over them for so long, would you really have them shoulder it again?"

"But..."

"It's not about living a long life, you ought all know better than to think otherwise! It's about what you do with the time that's given to you. It's about lying on your deathbed and feeling not a single ounce of shame or regret! It's about knowing you made something of yourself! It's about feeling pride at the very end!"

And as he drained his cup of tea and set it firmly back down upon the tray, Remus murmured:

"Hear, hear."

They stayed for several hours drinking countless cups of tea and talking very little, which at first Carrie found uncomfortable but eventually she thought it a relief. For once the Order had not, when faced with trauma, slipped into conversations of the whimsical or spoken in unfathomably cheerful tones.

Carrie had never managed to stand such behaviour in the past, it had always made her struggle. Of course she had seen the merit of talking of the weather or making inappropriate jokes. It was helpful, it could soften the atmosphere. But it was unnatural. She was glad to be rid of it.

Remus retreated back upstairs to bed in due course, and Carrie had called Imogen downstairs to help her in the kitchen. Carrie had washed up the countless empty mugs and cups, and Imogen had found herself trusted with a tea towel with which to dry them. Carrie was mildly impressed that the little girl only managed to chip one cup, and as lunchtime approached Carrie sent her upstairs to her grandfather with a glass of water whilst she set about making lunch. Hermione and Ginny came out to join her and together the three of them made a mountain of sandwiches to heap upon a platter. The Order members ate in the same eerily quiet fashion that they had drunk their tea and before long they began to leave to apparate to the National Duelling Arena, the location of which Carrie realised was a complete mystery to the muggle.

She roused Remus some half an hour later, and promptly regretted doing so for he looked dreadfully sickly, his face white save for the dark purple shadows that lingered under his eyes. He stumbled somewhat thickly out of bed and Carrie watched worriedly as he rummaged searchingly through the wardrobe for some suitable attire.

"Are you sure you ought go?" Carrie wondered, chewing worriedly upon her bottom lip. "It's a long afternoon, after all..."

"Of course I'm going." Remus said as he extracted a fresh shirt and pair of corded trousers from the wardrobe. "How could I possibly not?"

"You'll worry Dora something rotten though, won't you?" Carrie pointed out, remembering their trip to the press conference at the Ministry and the dreadful incident afterwards. "She'd be furious to think you weren't resting!"

It didn't seem to matter what Carrie said, Remus was intent on going to watch Dora in the qualifiers, and by the time they had gotten ready to leave, Carrie had given up attempting to change his mind.

Firstly Remus apparated them to the neighbouring town of Moorbrook, where they left Imogen in the care of her two uncles, Thomas and Timothy. Carrie had left Remus round the side of the block of flats where the twins lived whilst she escorted Imogen up to the top floor, and when the muggle returned she found the werewolf leant back against the wall, eyes firmly shut.

"Are you okay?" Carrie called worriedly, speeding up her pace to a jog, but Remus' eyes promptly snapped back open and he offered her a smile.

"Perfectly well, thank you." he insisted, but his rather wobbly attempts to straighten up did not have Carrie entirely convinced.

"How does your head feel?" she asked, and as he reached to take hold of her by the arm he admitted in an unfathomably cheerful tone:

"I do believe a herd of centaurs are trampling on it!"

The National Duelling Arena was located in the deep confides of mountain pass. It was an enormous oval structure that very much reminded Carrie of a Quidditch stadium. Carrie and Remus joined the enormous crowd of people streaming down the craggy pathway towards the enormous double doors that served as the Arena's entrance, and once inside Carrie found herself in a large reception area where row upon row of people were queueing to collect tickets and a vast variety of refreshments to take to the stands. Hanging from the tall celling above the ticket booths was an enormous golden sculpture depicting a pair of crossed wands, an array of colourful sparks shooting from their tips at short intervals, exploding like fireworks above the crowd. Along the sides of the room, witches and wizards were stood beside stalls selling various novelty items and team-branded merchandise, from flags to hats to cloaks bearing the names of the most well-known Aurors. Carrie attempted to glimpse Dora's name amongst those upon the stands, only for the throning crowds to block them from her view. A mouth-watering ordure of sizzling meat and sweet confectionaries hung in the air, and Carrie rather wished she had eaten more at lunchtime. Her appetite had been almost non-existent back at the house, but now she was feeling ravenously hungry.

Once armed with their tickets and snacks, the spectators found themselves being directed by the stewards through two sets of double doors, one on the left hand wall and another on the right. As Carrie and Remus joined the back of one of the enormous queues, Remus reached into his pocket and drew out a small, round box painted royal blue with tiny golden hinges upon the lid.

"Here," he said, pressing the box into Carrie's hands and gesturing over towards a small door in the far left hand corner of the room, which Carrie had not noticed before, it being so dwarfed by the double doors beside it. "You take this to Dora – ask for her through that door over there, and I'll get our tickets. We'll meet back here in fifteen minuets or so."

"What is it?" Carrie asked, looking down curiously at the box.

"It's a reminder." Remus told her with a smile, and Carrie shot him a smile of her own before turning to sidle her way through the crowd.

At the door she was met by a wizard with curly blonde hair who was dressed in the familiar uniform of the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement Department. He appeared to be on guard.

"No entry to the public through 'ere I'm afraid Madam." he told the muggle, pointing over towards the double doors. "Seats an' toilets are through that way, once you got yourself a valid ticket."

"Actually I'm looking for Dora Lupin." Carrie told him, holding up the box for his inspection. "I've a gift to give her, from her husband."

"May I?" the wizard asked, holding out a hand, and Carrie handed over the box for his inspection. Flicking the catch undone, he carefully opened the box to regard it's contents with a distinctly amused expression.

"Very nice." he concluded, snapping the box shut again and handing it back. "You'll want to go straight to the very end of the corridor, through the door on your left. That's the British quarters this afternoon, women's locker room'll be the door in the right hand corner." And with that, he reached to push open the door for her.

The corridor was very long, dark and narrow, the uneven wooden floorboards sloping steadily downwards until Carrie was quite certain she was entirely underground. After a while she found herself passing doors on either side of her, each one stamped with a country's flag. Her footsteps echoed around her and she found the place eerily quiet compared to the noise and excitement back in the entrance hall. There was something dreadfully tense about the atmosphere and when a door was flung abruptly open before her, Carrie very nearly jumped out of her skin. She hastily flattened herself against the wall as a couple of witches dressed in brightly coloured robes of striped red, white and blue came striding out into the corridor and past the muggle, babbling somewhat urgently at one another in French. Carrie was pretty sure they had not even noticed the muggle at all. She carried on down the corridor and at long last reached the final door on the left, the Union Jack stamped upon the wood. She wondered whether or not to knock, only for the door to be flung abruptly open, causing Carrie to leap backwards in surprise.

"...and that means France is up against them and who knows what'll happen there...oh! Carrie!"

It took a moment for Carrie to get over her shock before she finally registered Jasmine Wickes stood in the doorway, still grasping hold of the door handle with her white leather duelling gloves.

"Do all Aurors open doors like that?" Carrie wondered, giving herself a little shake, and Jasmine threw back her head and laughed quite madly, before slipping past the muggle into the corridor, calling over her shoulder:

"Good thing you're here! Give Tonks a kick up the arse for me, won't you? She's been in that locker room for over a bloody hour and we're supposed to be finalizing tactics!"

"Right..." Carrie mumbled, shuffling through the doorway and into the room beyond. It was a somewhat sparse room containing a couple of large squashy sofas and a low table set between them, upon which had been set a rumpled sheet of parchment. The other British duellers were all clustered around it, muttering to one another, pointing at the parchment and frowning. They didn't look up as Carrie hurried across the room towards the women's locker room, and Carrie felt herself to be somewhat of an intruder, so she hurriedly slipped into the next room, pushing the door carefully shut behind her.

The women's locker room seemed somewhat substantial given that there were only two of them on the team. Lockers lined the left hand wall and upon the right Carrie found a trio of sinks and a couple of showers, their curtains drawn aside. A long bench ran down the middle of the room, and it was sat alone upon this bench that Carrie discovered Dora, her back to the door, bent low with her head in her hands. Carrie only caught a glimpse of this, however, for no sooner had the door opened the Deputy Head of Aurors sat bolt upright, as if she had been struck by a stinging jinx in the back.

"It's only me." Carrie announced, and Dora's shoulders visibly relaxed. As the muggle crossed the room towards her, the witch turned to look round with a smile.

"Wotcher, Carrie love." she murmured, sounding a little hoarse, and as Carrie dropped down upon the bench beside her, the muggle felt a lump forming in her throat.

She'd been crying. Carrie was sure of it.

Carrie had never felt so sure about something like that before. Sometimes she suspected Dora had been crying, sometimes she thought it was probably likely. But this time she was certain. She knew it. Without a doubt.

She wanted to ask why, find a way to say something helpful or comforting, but the whole notion was far too difficult, far too frightening. Indeed, it scared Carrie to think of Dora crying one moment and out in the arena the next...

"You're not my first visitor." Dora informed her, smiling rather mechanically. "Kingsley, Harry and Ron beat you to it."

"Oh..." Carrie said, realisation dawning. No doubt Dora knew about the meeting back at home that morning, they were bound to have told her or she was bound to have guessed. They would have looked at her differently, it would be startlingly obvious to her, Carrie was certain. It would have been just like when Carrie's parents had been Obliviated, it would have been the same sad eyes, the same smothering sympathy...

"I'm sorry." Carrie felt compelled to mumble, though she was not entirely sure what she was apologising for, and Dora smiled weakly.

"It's all real now." the Auror observed darkly, reaching to pull her gloves tighter over her fingertips. "There's no hiding, not anymore."

Carrie barely suppressed the urge to shudder.

"Remus sent me." she told the witch, grip upon the box in her hands tightening.

"Is he here?" Dora asked, and before Carrie could respond her gaze had dropped to her lap and she once again smiled weakly and murmured: "Of course he is."

"He'd not miss it for the world, I don't think."  
>"No...I don't suppose he would." Though she sounded disapproving, Dora's smile widened fondly and Carrie reached to press the box into her hand.<p>

"He told me to give you this. He says it's a reminder." she explained, leaning forward, keen to at last get a glimpse herself.

Dora reached to carefully flip the catch undone before push back the lid. For a moment she simply gazed at the contents, lost in thought. For a horrible moment Carrie was afraid she might burst into tears, but instead the Auror sat straighter, expression suddenly stoic as she reached to retrieve the item from the box.

"He has a rather wonderful way with words, my husband." she recalled softly as Carrie saw the black silk armband that she was carefully smoothing with her fingers. "That's not the most unusual of traits, though. Lots of people know the right things to say, how to say them. But not all of them would be so meaningful if you were to cut out their tongues. Not all of them are quite as good at having a wonderful way with actions. But he always does."

Carrie watched in silence as the witch traced the outline of the embroidered golden phoenix upon the band's silken surface with a finger, and recalled the last time she had seen it, worn proudly upon the arms of the Order of the Phoenix during their annual march through Hogsmeade, drum beating, fanfare playing, crowds cheering their war heroes as they headed slowly towards Dumebledore's tomb. And as they had passed through the gates of Hogwarts School, Carrie had smiled to watch Remus and Dora's marching falter somewhat, for as they walked side by side their pace had slowed once free from the crowds for a moment to reach to grasp hold of one another by the hand...

Dora slipped the armband carefully over her gloved hand, past a flag-emblazoned duelling gauntlet and her elbow until the phoenix could sit proudly upon her upper arm, the golden threads glittering in the dim light of the locker room. Carrie was quite sure it would glow under the arena lights.

"Right then," the Auror said, flexing her fingers purposefully before getting heavily to her feet. "Let's do it..."


	10. The Qualifier

_Note: This is probably the longest action sequence I've ever written for a fanfic! I hope somebody enjoys it!_

_This chapter is dedicated to **Natalie2701**, who asks very awkward questions...! :-)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**10: The Qualifier**

The arena itself, flanked on all sides by towering tiered seating from which the spectators were already cheering and shouting enthusiastically, was somewhat smaller than a Quidditch pitch. It was, Carrie saw once she and Remus had taken their seats amongst the rest of the Order who had come to watch, entirely empty, it's floor covered in a generous layer of sand. Lines had been drawn, one down the middle, dividing the arena in two, whilst at either end a small box had been traced into the sand.

Carrie frowned deeply.

"Why sand?" she asked, leaning sideways so that she could speak loudly into Remus' ear in an attempt to be heard. "Why not...grass or floorboards? It's like we just had a mishap with a time turner and ended up in Ancient Rome!"

"Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant!" Remus recited with a grin. "Hail Emporer, we who are about to die salute you!"

Carrie's frown deepened and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." the muggle muttered, and the werewolf let out a chuckle as the large doors at the side of the arena slid grandly open. The crowd let out a deafening roar as a burly wizard dressed in black robes came striding to stand in the very centre of the arena. Carrie watched him draw his wand out from his pocket, pointing the tip at his throat, and quite suddenly his voice boomed out around the stands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to this afternoon's qualifier matches for this year's National Duelling Championships!"

The crowd let out an earsplitting cheer as the wizard thrust his arms up, turning around to beam up at all of them.

"The National Duelling Association wishes you a spectacular afternoon! And it certainly will be spectacular! Our first match is between Great Britain and Switzerland!" As the crowd's screaming cheers rose Carrie almost struggled to hear the announcer observe: "That's right! It's Britain's first match on home soil for over FIFTY YEARS! Who's ready for it?"

All around the stadium, a sea of witches and wizards swathed in Union Jack cloaks and splattered with red, white and blue face paint leapt onto their feet, cheering wildly. Opposite her, Carrie could make out a large crowd of Swiss supporters who were busy waving flags enthusiastically, the beginnings of a chant brewing in their midst.

"Let's get started, then!" bellowed the announcer. "Please welcome into the arena the Swiss National Duelling Team! Endrit Seifert! Fisnik Acklin! Lukas Hlasek! Margrit Lautens! Petrus Rausis! And their captain today, Serge Zubriggen!"

As the Swiss supporters whooped and cheered wildly, the rest of the crowd reduced to polite applause, Carrie watched the Swiss team enter the arena, coming to stand in a long line in the middle of the arena. Comprising of five men and only one woman, they were dressed in snowy white robes, the bright red Swiss flag emblazoned upon their backs. As the last in the line let out a command-like shout they all stood to attention like soldiers. Their expressions were deadly focused, and they all turned to look back at the doors they had come through as the announcer called:

"Now please welcome the British National Duelling Team! Jasmine Wickes! Albert Diggory! Xander Pikket! Burton Hayes! Hale Grover! And their captain today, Nymphadora Lupin!"

Carrie jumped to her feet and whooped and cheered for all she was worth as the British team filed out into the arena, coming to line up opposite their opponents. Unlike the Swiss team, Britain's duellers took a moment to wave at the surrounding crowd in greeting, all save for Dora, who gazed around at the stands searchingly. No sooner had she caught sight of the familiar black-cloaked Order members and the fiery banner that they held aloft between them, the metamorphmagus turned back to look at the Aurors stood opposite her, gaze scrutinizing. As the crowds' cheering began to die down, Carrie heard the Deputy Head of Aurors snap:

"Eyes front!"

And with a stamp, the British Aurors stood to attention, staring across at those opposite them.

"Captains Zubriggen and Lupin will now shake hands." the announcer informed the crowd, and the two Aurors obediently stepped forward, reaching to grasp one another firmly by the hand. A few words were exchanged, Carrie could see Zubriggen appeared to be smiling and as he and Dora parted he reached to slap an amiable hand down upon the witch's shoulder. Once returned to their places, the announcer requested: "Duellers, draw your wands!"

The crowd watched in silence as the twelve Aurors drew the wands from the holsters upon their belts, holding them down by their side. Upon instruction the two teams bowed to one another, before turning to retreat to their designated end of the arena. The announcer disappeared back through the arena doors, and a few minutes later, once both teams were each clustered inside the small box that had been drawn in the sand, the announcer's voice boomed from somewhere amongst the stands:

"Please take your starting positions!"

There was a moment of jostling down at Britain's end as the Aurors seemingly took some time to decide who ought stand next to who. They settled on Albert Diggory and Hale Grover, the handsome hook-nosed young man, each standing on an end. Dora and Jasmine were next, leaving the burly Burton Hayes and Xander Pikket with the scar upon his face to stand in the middle. Oddly, Carrie saw, Hayes reached to grasp hold of Dora by the hand, and beside him Pikket did the same to Jasmine. Dora flung her wand arm up into the air, and at the opposite end of the arena the Swiss captain did the same...

The floor was moving.

Carrie dropped back down into her seat in alarm, grasping hold of the edge of the chair as the whole entire arena began to tremble, a deep rumbling noise rising up into the air, and to the muggle's astonishment, down upon the arena floor great boulders and enormous shards of rock were slowly breaking free from underneath the sand, rising up into the air, high and higher until they towered above the Aurors. The arena, so barren before, was completely transformed into a labyrinth of rocks. At the centre, the last to rise from the sandy veil, was a flat rock upon which lay a large square of black material, the crossed wands emblem Carrie had seen out in the reception area embroidered in it's middle.

"Capture the flag." Remus observed, and now that the cheering and formalities were over Carrie felt her stomach twist into knots.

"Today's task is capture the flag!" the announcer's voice boomed, and Carrie rose slowly back onto her feet to peer back down at the British team to see their reaction to this news. Carrie could not help but think they perhaps weren't paying a whole lot of attention, for they appeared to be talking rapidly to one another. Jasmine was grinning quite manically, but Dora was frowning deeply.

"The first team to return the flag to their base will be declared the winner!" bellowed the announcer. "Are you ready?"

The crowd let out a whooping cheer and the two captains once again flung their arms up into the air.

And with that, a deafening horn sounded, signalling the beginning of the match.

The Swiss Aurors bolted forwards towards the middle of the arena, and Carrie watched to see the British do the same...

"What are they doing?" she shouted to Remus, who had dragged himself out of his seat to peer down at the team.

"I have no idea..." Remus admitted, frowning deeply.

Hayes and Pikket had jumped back to stand behind Dora and Jasmine, and Carrie watched in bemusement as they each reached to grasp hold of a witch by the hands, bending their knees...

And Carrie watched in astonishment as the wizards shouted:

"GO!"

The two witches jumped, kicking their feet back to strike against their partners' legs, and at that precise moment the two wizards straightened up, there came a flash of magic and as if they were upon a pair of human springs the two witches were catapulted up into the air...

"Oh Merlin..." Carrie heard Remus wince, and the muggle's eyes widened in shock as the crowd audible gasped...

Once high above the arena, both Jasmine and Dora took somewhat clumsy aim and bellowed their chosen spell, no sooner had two jets of golden light shot from their wands, the two witches succumbed to gravity and began to plummet back down towards the arena floor...

They'd snap every bone in their bodies, Carrie was certain of it!

She reached a blind hand sideways to grab hold of Remus by the arm, but the werewolf didn't move a muscle as he watched his wife fall faster and faster towards the ground...

Only for both Albert Diggory and Hale Grover to take precise aim, and above the crowd Carrie just about heard them bellow:

"ARESTO MOMENTUM!"

Grover's spell struck Jasmine square in the back and immediately her descent slowed until she hit the floor with only a minor bump...

Diggory manage to hit Dora in the shoulder, and Carrie winced in anticipation as the witch's fall slowed, only for her legs to fall faster than her torso, yanking her feet first towards the ground. She struck the floor as if she might land upon her feet, only for her legs to crumple under the sudden weight, her ankle visibly twisting as she promptly collapsed to the floor with a groan.

_OOOW!_ the crowd cried as the Deputy Head of Aurors promptly curled herself up into a ball with a hiss of pain, only for the crowd's attention to be diverted by a sudden flash of light.

The streaming golden lights that Dora and Jasmine had sent shooting across the arena had exploded into a solid wall of glistening golden magic, stretching across the arena near the Swiss base. As the barrier materialised, Carrie watched one Swiss Auror skid to a halt in an attempt to halt himself from colliding with him, only to stumble a step too far...

The crowd let out an almighty cheer as the wizard was flung backwards off his feet. The barrier gave a slight shudder at the impact, before returning to normal, humming ever so softly.

Back down the British end of the arena, Albert Diggory had rushed to Dora's side, only for Xander Pikket to demand:  
>"GO! JUST GO!"<p>

Casting one last regretful look down at the injured witch, Albert Diggory turned his back on the scene, and together he and Grover set off towards the middle of the arena at a sprint.

"Merlin, look at them go!" Carrie breathed as the two young men darted away, but Remus didn't seem to notice, he was much too busy watching Pikket and Hayes reaching to drag Dora roughly back onto her feet. Jasmine had barely scrambled up onto her feet herself before she found Dora half-flung into her arms, and the two wizards set off after Diggory and Grover, only for one to fork left and the other right, heading up the very edges of the arena. Left alone with their casualty, Jasmine stumbled over to the nearest large rock formation, and practically dropped Dora down onto the floor behind it.

"D'you think she's alright?" Carrie asked Remus as Jasmine dropped into a crouch to examine Dora's ankle, and the werewolf admitted:

"She's in major trouble if it's broken."

Diggory and Grover were nearing the flag, and Carrie was just feeling her heart leap excitedly in her chest at the sight of them, the Swiss Aurors having regrouped to fling spells at the golden barrier causing it to shudder and ripple...

"There!" Remus observed, raising an arm to point, and it was at that moment that Carrie caught sight of a white figure creeping up one side of the arena. As the Swiss Auror flattened himself against a boulder, leaving Hayes to rush straight past him, Carrie wondered:

"How did he get past the barrier?"

"He must have slipped past just before it formed."

"He must've been very quick!"

"Indeed...he's headed straight for the British base."

"Jasmine'll get him!" Carrie decided confidently, only to look back to see Jasmine had darted off after the rest of her team, leaving Dora alone slumped back against the rocks. As the crowd let out a deafening cheer as Diggory snatched up the flag, covered by Grover from behind and Pikket and Hayes from the sides, Carrie found herself watching the lone Swiss Auror as he hurried closer and closer toward's Dora hiding place.

Dora, meanwhile, was busy stamping her foot somewhat gingerly upon the floor, testing...

"Get up!" Carrie found herself pleading. "GET UP, DORA! GET UP!"

Apparently satisfied by her little assessment, Dora reached to grasp hold of the boulder beside her and used it to heave herself up onto her feet, one leg wobbling unsteadily under the weight upon it for a moment before she slowly straightened up. She took a few wobbly steps sideways...

_Bang! _

No sooner had she stepped out from behind the rock, the approaching wizard sent a hex shooting through the rocky passageway towards her. Catching sight of it out of the corner of her eye, the witch managed to fling herself back behind cover, face contorting somewhat furiously as she narrowly avoided hitting her head against the rock.

It was at that moment that there came a dazzling flash of golden light and Carrie's gaze snapped over towards the Swiss end of the arena, where Britain's barrier had at last been breached, exploding in shower of glittering golden shards.

"Here it comes..." Remus murmured, and within the blink of an eye the British team, retreating back towards their base with the flag, suddenly found themselves bombarded with spells.

They were forced to scatter, taking cover behind whatever cover they could find, and as Jasmine interrupted her rush to join them in order to drop to the floor behind a rather meagre looking rock, another, smaller explosion of spells broke out somewhere behind her...

Dora had stepped back out from behind the rock, and she and the Swiss Auror were duelling furiously, hurling spells back and forth at one another in such a dizzying display that Carrie could barely follow the flashes of light. They moved back and forth almost as if it were a dance and Carrie could almost picture Dora back home in the garden...

_Two, three block...step left, attack...one, two, dodge..._

It was so much faster than Carrie could ever quite imagine, so much so that when Dora halted abruptly, deflecting an attack with a swipe of her wand as her ankle seemingly gave way, causing her to drop down onto her knees the sudden stall in the movements made Carrie jump...

The muggle opened her mouth to exclaim something suitably horrified as the Swiss Auror's face lit up triumphantly and he took fresh aim...

Dora lunged forwards and as she landed flat upon her stomach, his latest spell streaking mere inches through the air above her head, the witch thrust her arm forward and above the roar of the crowd Carrie heard her cry:

"STUPEFY!"

She struck her opponent square in the face.

And so it was that Fisnik Acklin became the first Auror to be knocked unconscious.

Burton Hayes became the second half a second later.

The British team, still clinging stubbornly onto the flag, had retreated off to one side of the arena. Hayes took a hex to the cheek as he had made to move and join Jasmine defending the primary entrance to their make-shift stronghold.

In retaliation, Jasmine had popped out from behind cover and send a stinging jinx zig-zagging down the pathway, striking the Swiss team captain in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

"LITTLE HELP?" the red haired witch shrieked over her shoulder, and Grover darted forward to take Hayes' place.

Behind them, crouched down behind another boulder, Diggory, the flag tucked securely under one arm, and Pikket were having a rapid conversation, no doubt attempting to decide how best to get out of their current predicament.

Back over by the British base, Dora had once again dragged herself up onto her feet. Leaning heavily against a nearby rock, the British captain reached to point her wand at her throat and a moment later her voice echoed loudly around the arena.  
>"POSITION!"<p>

On command Diggory and Pikket shot red sparks up into the air.

Dora gazed up at the sparks, frowning deeply, and with that she set off towards them, creeping from rock to rock.

The battle raged on and though Grover managed to land a curse upon one opponent's shoulder, leaving the Swiss Auror to back off behind a low boulder, a deep slash seeping blood all over his pale robes, it was not long before Jasmine and Grover retreated behind another set of boulders. The Swiss team were slowly closing in on the flag...

"They're trapped!" Carrie observed as Remus, tired from standing, sunk back down into his seat.

"Tonks'll buy them time." Harry reasoned from the werewolf's other side. "Give her a second, she'll hit the Swiss in the flank!"

No sooner had this hopeful suggestion been announced, the crowd booed loudly to see a stray hex rebound with a swipe of one Swiss Auror's wand, whereupon it caught Jasmine in the arm, knocking her off her feet and sending her wand soaring off into the air. As behind, Pikket dived to retrieve it, narrowly avoiding being hit by a curse himself, the Swiss team were startled by one of their number taking a hex to the back, making him stumble sideways into the captain. As both Aurors fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, Dora stepped out from behind a rock, taking fresh aim...

The crowd went utterly wild. The single female member of the Swiss team darted froward to protect her fallen teammates as they hurriedly scrambled up onto their feet, and amongst the chaos Pikket darted forward to hand Jasmine back her wand. Grover took the opportunity to advance again, back to his original position, and Pikket and just dashed after him when the Swiss Aurors, back on their feet, set about a fresh attack.

Dora meanwhile had backed off round a corner, limping heavily and Switzerland's

Margrit Lautens had rushed after her. The two witches stood facing off against one another in a narrow passageway and Dora backed further and further away until they were quite separate form the rest of the conflict. As a vicious duel broke out between the two of them, back round the corner Jasmine risked running to join Grover and Pikket, and the three set about retaliating so fiercely that four remaining Swiss Aurors at long last retreated back a few meters.

As Dora succeeded in striking Margrit Lautens in the knee with a rebounded curse, causing the witch to stumble, Carrie began to hear a chant rising amongst the crowd.  
>"KNOCK HER OUT! KNOCK HER OUT! KNOCK HER OUT!"<p>

"That's brutal!" the muggle shouted to Remus disapprovingly, only to find the werewolf didn't appear to be listening.

Carrie turned her back on the arena to find the werewolf sat back in his chair, eyes distinctly glazed as he frowned deeply. He had grown suddenly pale, despite the heat in the arena, his face distinctly green-tinged.

"Are you alright?" Carrie shouted to him as she leant forward to scrutinize him more closely, and he looked up at her, nodding feebly. As Harry also turned his attention away to look at Remus worriedly, the werewolf let out a spluttering cough.

"I'm...I'm fine..." he insisted, sitting a little straighter in his chair, just as the crowd let out a shriek of excitement and Carrie glanced back to see Margrit Lautens crash back against a boulder with a cry, head bouncing off the rough surface in a manner that made Carrie wince. Triumphant, Dora stumbled back a few steps, seemingly disorientated by the fight as she turned to stare around at the cheering crowd...

"Hide him!" Harry's voice demanded abruptly, and Carrie felt the Head of Aurors reach to grab hold of her by the wrist. "Don't let Tonks see him looking like that!"

Before Carrie could jump sideways to shield Remus from view, the werewolf lurched abruptly forward in his seat, retching...

And as Carrie glimpsed Dora at last managing to pick her husband out in the crowd, the Auror froze to see him cough up bloodied bile, the crimson mess splattering down onto the floor at his feet. As another cough left a bloody stain smeared upon Remus' lips, Carrie watched Dora tense in horror...

"Get him out! Get him out!" Harry demanded, reaching to sling an arm around Remus, yanking the werewolf up onto his feet. "For the love of Merlin...Ron, help me!"

"Is he alright?" Carrie cried, voice high in alarm, but she was ignored as Harry and Ron hurriedly bundled Remus towards the nearest exit.

Dora stood, entirely motionless, staring as her fellow Aurors shoved their way through the crowd, dragging Remus after them as he stifled his gruesome splutters into the sleeve of his robes. Where Dora's face had grown flushed from duelling, even from a distance Carrie could see the colour drain from her cheeks...

It was then that Carrie caught sight of the Swiss Auror who had come running to Margrit Lautens' rescue, and the muggle's stomach gave a panicked jolt to see him turn to face Dora, about to take aim at her back...

"BEHIND YOU!" Carrie shrieked at the top of her lungs, but her shouting was lost amongst the crowd and she flinched in anticipation as the Swiss dueller sent a stunning spell shooting forwards.

It missed Dora's shoulder by mere inches, and yet as it flew past and exploded against a nearby rock, the witch didn't seem to notice. Eyes still fixated on Harry and Ron as they dragged Remus through the crowd, it was as if she had quite forgotten she was in the arena, as if she were lost to the world...

Her attacker leapt back a step into a defensive stance, no doubt expecting her to whip round to face him and retaliate, and a split second later it began to dawn on him that his assumptions were entirely wrong. He took fresh, precise aim at the dazed witch's back and Carrie reached to clamp her hands over her mouth in horror...

"NYMPHADORA!"

At the stern, furious voice bellowing from somewhere to Carrie'd right, the muggle looked sideways to see Robert Wilde, who appeared to have jumped up to stand upon his chair, waving his arms around quite madly, and as Dora finally glanced at him, the Auror demanded at the top of his lungs: "CONSTANT VIGILENCE!"

It was as if a switch had been flicked inside of Dora's head, and she threw herself towards cover, dodging an incoming spell by mere inches. No sooner had she dived out of the way, the witch sprung back out again, such abrupt movement catching her opponent off guard, and he soon found himself struck by a hex to the chest, causing him to stumble. Dora was just about to fling another spell in his direction when both duellers paused at the sound of an almighty booming sound...

The enormous rock face separating the trapped British Aurors from their base had exploded in a enormous crowd of dust, fragments of rock raining down upon both teams who all threw themselves to the ground, burying their heads in their arms in an attempt to shield themselves.

Albert Diggory lowered his wand, surveying his hazardous handiwork for just a brief moment, before setting off across the remaining rubble at a sprint, slipping and sliding upon the debris as an enormous cheer rose from the crowd. The young Auror was heading straight for Britain's base...

Dora recovered from her astonishment first, gaze snapping back towards the Auror stood ahead of her and she hastily sent a stinging jinx shooting towards him...

Within a split second the Swiss dueller seemed to realise that he was, at that moment in time, the only member of his team upon his feet, and he darted back towards the scene of the chaos, Dora's spell catching him on the shoulder and causing him to stumble sideways, narrowly avoiding tripping over the unconscious form of Margrit Lauters in the process. But he managed to keep his balance, skidding out into the open and thrusting is wand desperately forward...

His spell hit Diggory square in the back, and the crowd booed to see the flag-bearer fall flat on his face amongst the rubble.

The other Aurors were just beginning to return to their senses, and as the standing Swiss dueller made to run to retrieve the flag, Jasmine Wickes managed to scramble to her knees, fumbling for her wand before catching him in the back with a stunning spells, knocking him out cold.

"GET UP, BERTIE!" Jasmine shrieked as she heaved herself up onto her feet, only to fling herself to the ground again when the Swiss captain, also making to stand, shot a curse in her direction.  
>But Albert Diggory merely rolled onto his side with a moan, and squinting down at him Carrie could see a series of deep grazes upon his face. He clung hopelessly onto the flag, face contorted painfully.<p>

"GET UP!" Jasmine pleaded as she crawled back towards Pikket and Grover, pausing to kick Grover sharply in the side in an attempt to bring him to his senses.

Carrie watched, heart hammering in her chest as Dora stumbled around the corner into the open, gaze snapping to Diggory lying upon the floor...

The Swiss captain, Zubriggen, had at last risen to his feet, his gaze also fixated upon the flag...

The two captains glanced from the flag, then at one another, and then back to the flag...

"She'll never get there first!" Carrie heard a witch observe fretfully from behind her, and yet it seemed to Carrie that Dora seemed willing to try...

Both captains set off towards their target at a sprint.

Though Dora was somewhat nearer, Zubriggen's pace was by far the quickest and Dora's ankle was making her progress distinctly wobbly, as if she might trip at any moment...

Before long the pair were running side by side, so close that their teammates behind them did not dare to attempt to take out their opponent...

All save for Albert Diggory, who had rolled onto his back to discover the pair running full pelt towards him.

The young Auror took easy aim at Zubriggen, sending a stinging jinx flying towards the Swiss captain, and the crowd drew in a collective breath, ready to cheer...

Only for Zubriggen to throw a sudden arm sideways, grasping hold of Dora by the shoulder and with that he lunged sideways, yanking the witch into the speeding spell's path.

Carrie winced, only to let out a shriek of triumph when Dora managed to swipe her wand upwards, deflecting the spell and causing it to veer sideways into a boulder. Zubriggen had succeeded in unbalancing the witch, however, and she promptly fell to her knees.

Dodging another of Diggory's attacks, Zubriggen dashed forward and snatched the flag from the young wizard's grasp, causing a raucous cheer to rise up from the Swiss supporters.

Back towards the centre of the arena, the remnants of both teams seemed suddenly rather oblivious to the flag changing hands, for they were embroiled in a sudden stale mate, flinging spells at one another and doing their best to defend themselves. Seemingly forgetting Dora, who was keenly watching his progress, Zubriggen turned and began to sprint back towards the Swiss end of the arena, heading for cover in the side passage in which Dora had duelled Margrit Lauters and the other hesitant Swiss wizard...

And Carrie watched Dora observe the Swiss captain's progress for a split second, eyes calculating, before she wet her lips and raised her wand...

The muggle became suddenly sure that she knew what would come next. She'd seen it before many years previously during her trip to the Six Sisters' Vale...

_Crack!_

Unlike the previous person Carrie had witnessed have their lower leg bone snapped like a twig by Dora Lupin, Zubriggen did not scream in agony. He did, however, collapse to the ground with a shout that Carrie suspected was a Swiss swear word of one form or another.

One of his companions made to turn and run to grab the flag, only for this distraction to prove fatal as a stray hex shooting over from Britain's remaining Aurors hit him in the arm, causing him to stumble. The remaining Swiss Aurors took this as a sign to retreat back a good few meters, taking refuge behind an assortment of boulders.  
>Jasmine, Pikket and Grover leaped forward, bombarding the retreating Aurors with spells, and as soon as the Swiss team had taken a second to duck down behind cover, Hale Grover dashed daringly forward, demanding:<p>

"COVER ME!"

As his fellow teammates continued to put pressure upon their opponents with a shower of weak yet rapid hexes, the auburn haired Auror snatched up the flag from Zubriggen's weak grasp, turned and sprinted towards the British base, the crowd screaming and cheering him on.  
>"RUN HALE!" Dora shouted as she began to stumble over towards Diggory, who appeared to be bleeding somewhat heavily from a wound upon his cheek. Dora collapsed down beside the young Auror, reaching to press her sleeve to his face in an attempt to stem the bleeding, and the remaining Swiss Aurors were just beginning to cause Jasmine and Pikket to turn and flee after the new flag-bearer when Hale Grover leapt triumphantly into Britain's starting box, there came the blast of a horn to signal the end of the match and the arena exploded into cheers.<br>"Great Britain win!" the announcer's voice boomed, as if there could possibly be any doubt judging from the crowd's reaction, and the remaining British Aurors whooped and cheered in triumph...

All save for Dora, who looked round to see Jasmine Wickes' enthusiastic prancing to shout:

"Jasmine! Pull yourself together!"

"Alright Capt'n!" Jasmine shouted back, and with that she dashed over to check on the unconscious figure of Burton Hayes.

Dora continued to bark out orders until Grover and Pikket had come to help drag a still bleeding Albert Diggory to his feet, though the young Auror was grinning broadly. The Swiss team also set about gathering together their unconscious and wounded members until the two teams were, in one form or another, clustered back in the middle of the arena. Those who were still fit enough to do so offered one another a gracious bow.

"Congratulations to the British National Duelling Team! And commiserations to their gallant opponents! This has been without doubt our most exciting and furious contest yet!" called the announcer. "Great Britain will continue through to the second round!"

No sooner had the announcer moved on to the arrangements for the crowds leaving the arena the two teams were joined by an array of lime green-clad mediwitches and mediwizards. Those who were relatively unscathed headed for the exit.

Carrie watched Dora hurriedly wave away the approaching help, dodging clumsily past a mediwitch before dashing for the exit.

No doubt she was headed straight to find Remus, and as the mediwitch stared after the Auror somewhat worriedly, Carrie turned and set about pushing her way towards the nearest exit, intent on doing the same.


	11. The Prospect of Existence

_Note: It's another filler chapter...sort of. Something important does happen! I'm just not saying which bit that is! _

_In other news I've an extremely busy week ahead of me, I've got work for at least 2 days, a lot of music to learn on the piano, a cinema trip and a wedding to attend! So, I doubt I'll be writing much! Sorry about that! :-) _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**11: The Prospect of Existence**

They stood in a huddle at the bottom of the stairs, watching the mediwitch's descent of the steps in grim silence.

Teddy, Carrie thought, looked somewhat flustered, having been summoned back to his parents' house midway through doing battle with the Ministry's latest set of agility tests, his cadet robes muddy and his face damp with sweat.

He looked rather refreshed, mind you, compared to his mother stood beside him, robes dusty from explosions of rock, mousy hair ruffled and leggings shredded to reveal deep grazes upon her knees. She stood barefoot, having yanked her steadily swelling ankle free from the suffocating confides of her boots, and she leant heavily against the wall, shoulders slumped and arms hugging her middle.

The mediwitch was a certain Healer Fenswick who had arrived at the door some twenty minutes earlier, having been summoned by Ron whilst Harry had deposited Remus upstairs and Dora had, despite protests, hobbled up to the bathroom to retrieve a basin of water and a flannel with which to wash the blood and bile from the werewolf's face. Ron had disappeared off to the Ministry in search of Teddy having flooed St. Mungo's, and Dora had wasted little time in bundling Harry into the fireplace after him.

Teddy had arrived within half an hour, breathless and muddy, and Healer Fenswick had arrived some five minutes later. She had taken one look at the state of Dora, opened her mouth to comment, only for the Auror to inform her flatly:

"He's upstairs in bed."

The healer had tutted rather disapprovingly before ascending the stairs, leaving Dora, Teddy and Carrie to wait in the hallway.

"Is there somewhere we could talk, Mrs. Lupin?" Fenswick had inquired once she had reached the bottom of the stairs. "In private, perhaps?"

Dora had pursed her lips together thoughtfully, before deciding:

"We don't really do private, Healer Fenswick. Not in this house...not anymore."

"I see." Fenswick said, sounding rather approving. "The sitting room then, is it?"

"Yes, this way." Teddy offered, gesturing towards the room in question. "Do take a seat..."

They all shuffled into the room and took a seat. Despite her fatigue, Dora sat straight and rigid in her seat, injured leg stretched out in front of her and her hands folded unnaturally formally in her lap.

"First of all," Fenswick began once she had taken a seat in the armchair, her voice suddenly growing soft. "I'm afraid I must tell you, Mrs. Lupin, that the symptoms your husband has described suffering this afternoon are by no means common when suffering from Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis."

"They're not...?"

"No. In fact I'd go as far as to say that there is no connection at all, that these symptoms are an indication of another condition entirely."

"Another condition?"

"I'm afraid so."

"He's contracted...a second condition?"

"It's not unusual, Mrs. Lupin. His immune system may well have been weakened by his initial illness. Picking up an infection or virus is a very likely risk."

Numbly, Carrie turned in her seat to gage Teddy's reaction, and found her husband appeared to be staring at his feet despairingly.

Dora, however, was still sat rigid, expression utterly stoic.

"And what is this...this second condition?" the Auror asked, giving her head a little shake as if to bolster her composure.

"The most common cause for such sudden occurrences, I would say," the healer explained, "are often something the patient has ingested. An ingredient from a potion, perhaps? Has your husband been taking any different or new potions, or potions from a different apothecary? Or perhaps he has been taking extra doses? Pain medication, perhaps. I suggest you attempt to limit the number of potions he drinks. Make sure he consumes lots of water, regular meals even if he loses his appetite!He must keep his strength up! If the symptoms grow worse within the next few days be sure to contact the hospital. One can lose a worrying amount of blood in that amount of time. If it continues we may well decide to admit him..."

After concluding her instructions and insisting on rummaging around in her small medical bag that appeared to hold an entire pharmacy's worth of potions and medicine, Healer Fenswick presented Dora with a tube of cream. As the healer headed for the fireplace, Dora squinted down at the tube, wondering:  
>"What am I supposed to do with this?"<p>

"It's for your ankle." the lime green clad witch informed her as she reached to scoop up a handful of floo powder. "Can't go wandering around with it swollen up like a balloon now, can you? Not when you've that insufferable Albanian woman to put in her place!" And with that, she disappeared in a burst of emerald flame.

Dora took a long moment to scowl at the little tube, before shoving it into her pocket and mumbling:

"Stick the kettle on, won't you Teddy love?"

And with that, she rose stiffly to her feet and limped off towards the stairs.

Tears caught Carrie just a few minutes later, once Teddy had shuffled off to mindlessly make tea, and after a while the muggle wandered upstairs to the bathroom so that she could splash her face with water, staring at herself in the mirror above the sink and command herself to be composed.

Except it wasn't fair. None of it was fair. Why? Why did life have to be so unashamedly cruel?

She paused upon the landing on her way back downstairs at the sound of a soft thump coming from inside the master bedroom, and for a moment she felt panic seize her as she hurriedly went to peer through the gap in the door...

Only to spot Dora, having just collapsed spread-eagle upon the bed beside Remus who was lying motionlessly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Strike me down!" the witch moaned, face contorting despairingly. "I wish _I_ were dying!" And the werewolf reached a blind arm sideways, fingers probing until he could press a hand to her cheek.

"Don't say that." Carrie heard him whisper hoarsely, fingers scuffing her skin soothingly. "Don't you ever say that."

Dora sighed heavily, leaning into his hand for a long moment before rolling carefully onto her side until she could reach to slide an arm across his chest, leaning to press her lips to his temple.

"I'd do it, you know." she whispered into his ear, forehead pressed to the side of his head as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. "I'd swap with you, my love. In a heartbeat I would."

"Shh..."

"I'd do anything for you, you know. It's true. I thought about it today, in the arena. I shook hands with the Swiss captain, we shared a friendly word or two and I've written to him before, I like him, he's a decent sort of man and I...and I watched him running with that flag and I thought I'd trip him with a spell...only I thought of you and I thought of...of that money and I didn't want to risk him getting up again! So I snapped his leg! I...I snapped his bloody leg and they...they had to lift him out on a...on a bloody stretcher! And I thought...I thought to myself what if it were different, what if it was a real fight...I'd...I'd have killed him for you, I swear it! I think...I think I hate myself for it...I'm...I'm turning into a monster..."

Remus reached to slide an arm underneath her until he could pull her closer against his side, taking a turn at sighing himself.

"Well then," the werewolf murmured, "that would make two of us."

For a long moment the two were silent, she burying her face in the crook of his neck, and after a long moment of silent contemplation of their increasingly poor circumstances, Dora mused:

"It's gone pretty well, I think. You and me. Us."

Remus' grip upon her tightened, but he remained silent.

"It'll never last! It won't work!" Dora chuckled, reaching to trace an absentminded finger across his cheek. "People were always telling me that...telling me how utterly doomed our marriage was...how it was some...some silly whim, that I didn't realise what I was doing...you're so young and stupid! You'll regret it all one of these days! But they were all wrong, every one of them. If I could I'd do it all again! I wouldn't change any of it...none of it at all!"

"You make it sound as if it were over already." Remus observed, fingers toying with the buttons upon her top. "It isn't, you know. Not for you. Not for a long, long time yet."

Dora gave another chuckle that sent a shiver down Carrie's spine.

"Oh no," the witch murmured, cupping his face in her hand as she leant to press their foreheads together, staring at him intently. "There's no life after you, Sweetheart..."

Remus opened his mouth to make some form of protest, but she silenced him with a thumb across his lips as she insisted: "Because I have no desire to have one."

Carrie felt quite frightened by this as a notion, and indeed Remus' expression grew deeply, deeply troubled.

"Don't say that." he pleaded somewhat half-heartedly as if he thought it something of a lost cause, and Dora leant to press a kiss to his lips, suddenly grinning.

"We're not talking suicide, you know." she informed him frankly as if she thought such a thing was quite laughable as a plan of action. "As melodramatic and romantic a notion that is! Dying is not a necessary step to end a life, is it? That's what you told me, when you came back from Greyback's pack. There's living, you said, and then there is simply _existing_."

"I believe I also told you that simply existing wasn't much good..."

"..._for a young witch like you_. But I'm not young anymore, Remus. I'm well into being middle-aged and I've lived plenty enough. With you."

It was at that moment that Carrie heard movement upon the stairs and she turned to see Teddy carefully levitating a tray of tea up the steps. She offered him a ghost of a smile and as he came to a halt upon the landing beside her he leant to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'll apparate you over to fetch Imogen before I head back to the Ministry if you like." he suggested as he leant to tap upon his parents' bedroom door. "Save you taking a bus." When neither Remus nor Dora responded to his tapping, he called: "I've made tea!"

"I think they're having a rather serious talk." Carrie informed him under her breath, and he puffed his cheeks and admitted:

"Well I'd be worried if they didn't...hey! Do you want a cup or not?"

"Cheers, love." Dora finally called, and Teddy reached to push the door open to find both parents in the process of sitting up. The tray came to hover just before them and they both selected a mug of tea, murmuring gratefully.

Teddy eyed the pair of them for a long moment as he left the tray to set itself down upon a bedside table, before asking his mother:

"I'll track Jasmine and the others down before my case study talk, shall I? Tell them you're skipping the press conference this evening..."

"She'll be there." Remus interrupted, casting a sideways glance at his wife as if daring her to claim otherwise, and when Dora merely became preoccupied with extracting the tube of cream from her pocket to stop it digging into her hip, Teddy frowned a little but agreed:

"Alright then."

Remus abandoned his tea upon the bedside table in favour of picking up the tube of cream to examine, and Dora raised her leg to wave her swollen ankle around in explanation.

"You had better come for dinner." Remus suggested to the couple in the doorway as he unscrewed the lid and squirted a generous amount of the grey-tinged substance into his palm. As he shuffled down towards the end of the bed so that he could set about smearing the cream over Dora's ankle, he said: "George is staying until Dora gets back from the Ministry. We'll all sit and listen to the interviews on the wireless."

Dora's face contorted as she groaned, either from exasperation at such a prospect or in discomfort as Remus rubbed the cream into the swelling, Carrie wasn't quite sure which. The former made Carrie want to snigger a little and she felt satisfied to agree:

"That sounds like a plan."

Carrie sat upon the sofa in Remus and Dora's sitting room that evening, sandwiched between Teddy and George, Imogen sat fidgeting upon Remus' lap as the werewolf sat in the armchair, listening to the crackling wireless broadcast. The room was warm and Carrie felt drowsy after such a long and tiring day. She found she wasn't really listening to the crackling conversations much at all, and was just dosing off to sleep when she heard Dora's voice and was jolted awake.

"It was a risky tactic, wasn't it?" the interviewer was intoning dramatically. "A very, very risky tactic, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh yeah," Jasmine Wickes' voice agreed, sounding her usual blasé self. "Of course it was! Don't try it at home, boys and girls!"

"Indeed, and it didn't quite go to plan, did it Tonks?"

"It went well enough." Dora said, her first proper words throughout the whole exchange, where she had seemingly been content to simply agree: hmm.

"That was a rather nasty fall you suffered, just a few minutes in, wasn't it?"

"Mm."

"What was going through your head, when you hit the floor?"

"Apart from the pain? I thought of the Four Cs."

"And what are those?"

"Curse, Curl, Count and Courage. If it hurts, don't be afraid to shout and curse. Let it all out and you'll feel better for it. Curl yourself into a ball and protect the injured area. Take a moment to count to three to calm yourself down. Remind yourself of the importance of courage in the face of a new weakness."

"And did it work?"

"Not really. I'd only counted to two before I got dragged up off the floor."

The rest of the British team laughed and Burton Hayes admitted:

"I've never thought much of the Four Cs. Quite frankly when you're in any sort of danger you rarely have the time to sit and count to three, let alone contemplate the need for courage."

The rest of the team murmured agreement and Dora recalled:

"We don't bother teaching that to the cadets, these days."

"What do you teach instead?" the interviewer asked, and Dora recited:

"_Shut up, get up and fight harder_."

"That sounds rather like something the late Alastor Moody would say." the interviewer observed brightly, but Dora muttered:

"Not really, it's not nearly harsh enough."

At this, George slumped back in his seat in amusement and Remus reached to pass a hand across his eyes, muttering:

"Oh Dora..."

"She's a wonderfully miserable git when she fancies it, isn't she?" George observed, and Remus admitted:

"She won't pretend to be proud. She's much too ashamed of the whole business."

"They need to stop talking about Mad-Eye." Teddy grumbled, reaching to slide an arm around Carrie's shoulders. "The whole contest goes against everything he believed in, it winds Mum up..."

"She best not lose her temper," Remus mumbled as Imogen turned a page in the picture book she was examining intently. "They'll only use it as fuel in the papers, make her as angry and bitter as Luga, make the two of them the rivalry of the century. She'd loathe that, she really would..."

Talk turned to Albert Diggory's explosive escape attempt and for a while Dora said very little, until once again the interviewer decided to pose another question, this one far trickier than the ones before it:

"There have been rumours, Tonks, I'm sure you've heard of them, regarding your health..."

Carrie squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Teddy's arm tighten around her.

"Mm..." Dora agreed vaguely, and Jasmine instantly insisted:

"Pack of lies! Really, it's all completely..."

"Indeed, but what about this afternoon? There are some people...who saw the match..."

"Who?" Jasmine asked, sounding instantly riled, only for Dora to reason calmly:

"People are always going to talk."

"Yes," the interviewer agreed, "and a few people do seem to think that you were somewhat distracted at times today..."

"Rubbish." Jasmine scoffed, only for the interviewer to insist on asking:

"What do you say to that, Tonks?"

There was a very long silence.

Carrie wondered precisely what Dora might say, how she might dodge this question, gloss seamlessly over the truth and carry on regardless as if nothing at all was wrong, as if all were well and...

"I'd say they were probably right." the Deputy Head of Aurors decided.

There was a rather shocked pause, before the interviewer said:

"I see..."

"I'd also agree that my health isn't quite what I wish it was." Dora admitted, sounding quite unconcerned to do so.

"Are you overworked?"

"Massively. At work and at home. _By choice_."  
>"And you have no intention of slowing down?"<p>

"Not in during this lifetime, no."

"Goodness! A workaholic!"

"Somebody's got to be."

"Nevertheless, everybody is well enough and recovered, ready to flatten the opposition in the second round!"

The British duellers all murmured enthusiastic agreement and the interviewer exclaimed:

"There you have it, ladies and gents! You heard it here first! Now, we've had a flood of owls this afternoon, all from listeners positively dying to ask our champions questions! We're going to read a few of them out now, the first one is for you, Albert, and is from a Miss Elizabeth Brown!"

"Go ahead." Albert Diggory said, sounding quite delighted at the news.

"Elizabeth wants to know if there is a Mrs. Diggory!" the interviewer said, and the other Aurors all laughed.

"Oh!" Albert chuckled, sounding distinctly embarrassed. "Um...no. No, I'm not married..."

"But you have a girlfriend, right? Nice young man like you..."

"No, actually. I um...I don't much have time for girls really, thanks to work. We're supposed to be married to our job, you know? That's what Tonks tells us..."

"I see! That's a bit rich mind you, isn't it Tonks? Coming from somebody who's married herself!"

"I rather meant it metaphorically." Dora admitted, and the interviewer clapped his hands together and suggested:

"Well then, Albert! Now you've heard that you can get yourself a nice girl! I'm sure Miss Brown is glad to hear it!" As the Aurors all laughed again, the interviewer announced: "Our next question, from Mr. Nathan Oldwood, and he would like to hear from each of you: If you were to face one another in the arena, who would you least like to duel? Let's start with you, Jasmine!"

"Oooh..." Jasmine chuckled, "That's a tricky one. Because of course we all know one another, we fight together all the time so...taking one another by surprise wouldn't be easy...I guess I'd hate to duel Tonks because she taught me at least half of what I know. She qualified me, so...you know, she knows exactly what my strengths and weaknesses are..."

"I'd say the same, really." Albert admitted, and the interviewer laughed and exclaimed:

"Your former cadets fear you, Tonks!"

"Not nearly enough!" Dora joked, and the interviewer asked:

"And what about you, Xander? Which of your teammates would put you on edge?"

"Jasmine." Xander answered without any hesitation. "She's utterly wild and she terrifies me."

Burton Hayes jokingly suggested that Hale Grover was much too pretty and lacking in scars to be anything but a master at shielding charms, whilst Hale himself recalled his first practice duel with Xander that had left such a lasting impression upon the young man that the notion of the two of them truly fighting made him flinch.

"And last but not least, Tonks, who would have you running for the hills?"

"I think I'll say Bertie." Dora decided somewhat whimsically, "because I'm old enough to be his mother, he's quick as lightening and he likes to dangle people upside down by their ankles, which makes me nauseous. I'd not bother running for the hills, mind you. He'd only catch me up."

"There you have it!" exclaimed the interviewer as Dora's fellow Aurors positively howled with laughter, Jasmine muttering some joking jibe about fetching Dora her walking stick, "Sadly we've only time for one last question! And we've had countless owls asking about this, countless, countless owls! Tonks?"

"Mm?"

"Valbona Luga! Tell us what you think about her!"

There was a pause and Carrie watched Remus slump back in his chair with a sigh, before Dora spoke, her tone distinctly unimpressed.

"I think Ms. Luga is a very fine dueller." she summarized shortly. "I think the Albanian team are very fortunate to have her and that's about as far as my opinion of her goes."

"But what about what we've all been reading in the Daily Prophet? What about..."

"I could talk for hours about my opinion of recent articles in the Daily Prophet. Quite frankly I think whoever decided to publish them is an utter disgrace. I think the press should be ashamed to turn a competition designed to strengthen the bonds between the international wizarding community into some sort of hate-fuelled blood sport. I've fought in a war, thank you very much, and I have absolutely no intention of conducting another one in front of a cheering audience! It's distasteful and I highly disapprove of it. It offends everything we at the British Auror Department stand for, and offends me deeply on a personal level, too."

"Oh!" George exclaimed, clapping his hands together approvingly. "Let's hear them come back at that!"

Apparently, they discovered after a long pause, the interviewer had no idea how to do such a thing, for he hastily decided:

"Well, that's all we've got time for! Up next, we're going live to the Holyhead Harpies' home stadium to here what the state of play is at half-time, as the Harpies take on the Canons!"

"Merlin knows what'll be on the Prophet's front page tomorrow..." Remus murmured as he leant forward to press a kiss atop Imogen's head. "Up you get, Immy. Grandad needs a glass of water..."

Imogen slipped down from her grandfather's knee, picture book still clasped in her hands and as Remus heaved himself up onto his feet, Carrie stifled a yawn into her sleeve, head coming to rest against Teddy's shoulder.

"When is the second round, then?" the muggle wondered as Imogen tossed the book down onto the floor in order to skip after Remus out into the hallway.

"Not for a week, I don't think." Teddy recalled, smiling faintly. "I'll be able to come and watch, too. Isaac says we're all going...it's like some sort of school trip! Take note of duelling techniques..."

"TED!" Remus' voice called suddenly from out in the hallway, and in an instant both Teddy and George had leapt to their feet, Carrie just a moment after them.

They discovered the werewolf stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning heavily against the doorframe, both hands gripping hold of it tightly...

"Bed now, is it?" George suggested lightly as Teddy sidled past a staring Imogen to sling a steadying arm around his father.

Remus squeezed his eye shut, mouthing something inaudible, and George crossed to pull open the cupboard under the stairs.

"Where'd all the painkiller potions go?" he asked, pushing aside a bottle or two, only for Teddy to tell him:  
>"Mum poured them down the sink. Healer's orders."<p>

Remus groaned, head bowed and teeth gritted, and George eyed him despairingly and muttered:

"Sweet Merlin..."

"Bed, Dad." Teddy decided, half-dragging the stumbling werewolf towards the stairs. "Before you pass out on me..."

"Come on, Immy!" Carrie called briskly, hurrying to usher the child into the kitchen. "You fetch a glass for me and we'll pour Grandad a nice cold glass of water!"

"I'll get the bedroom door." George decided, hurrying ahead of the staggering pair.

"If it's been hurting you should've said...you should've gone to bed before..." Teddy was complaining as they reached the stairs. "Look down, Dad. Look at the stairs..."  
>"I think there's three of them..."<p>

"Step on the middle one."

"Ha..."

Carrie took a ridiculously long time running the tap to get the water to grow icy cold, and by the time she sent Imogen upstairs with the glass of water, following a little way behind her, Teddy and George had retreated back downstairs.

Carrie paused upon the stairs to listen dismally to George's complaints that a total lack of painkillers would leave Remus to get little if no sleep at all, before wandering slowly up after Imogen...

Her pace quickened abruptly at the distinct sound of somebody choking and half a second later Carrie burst into the bedroom, eyes darting frantically to the bed...

"Imogen!" she exclaimed, eyes wide in horror to find the little girl poised over the bed, having seemingly attempted to pour the glass of water down her spluttering grandfather's throat, leaving him doused in water, his face flushed from coughing. "What are you doing? For goodness sake!"

Imogen simply stared, seemingly unfazed by her blunder as her mother rushed forwards to snatch the glass from her hand, slamming it down upon the bedside table so that she could reach to push Remus up into a sitting position, upon which is slumped forward, coughing into his hands.

"I was helping Grandad." Imogen explained, not sounding in the least bit distressed, and at her tone Carrie turned to eye her curiously.

"'S...f...fine..." Remus managed to wheeze, slumping back against his pillows again, and as Carrie sighed heavily, shaking her head, Imogen simply smiled.


	12. Safe Havens

_Note: It has occurred to me that, unlike most of the previous stories, this one is very much focused on Remus and Dora and their relationship, whilst Carrie and Teddy have taken a backseat. The main reason for this is that, if I decide to write it (which depends on if you all want to read it), the final story in this series will probably not have too much of a focus on Remus and Dora at all, since by then they will be rather old and not up to much! So, excuse the lack of Teddy/Carrie moments in this story, although there will be a few in the coming chapters!_

_This is sort of a filler chapter too, I'm afraid...hope somebody enjoys it, still! :-)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**12: Safe Havens**

The atmosphere in the house grew steadily tenser over the following days, worse than before, and this time, though Dora grew steadily more stoic as time went on, Remus began to crumble.

It was upon the third morning, having had Hermione arrive at the flat to take Imogen to Diagon Alley with Rose and Hugo, that Carrie watched the family's plummet towards rock bottom hit a new low.

She was just slipping in through the front door and shrugging the coat from her shoulders when she found Remus busy rifling through the contents of the cupboard under the stairs, banging jars and bottles and making an awful lot of noise. Before Carrie could call a greeting of any kind, Dora appeared in the study doorway, leaning wearily against the doorframe as she asked:

"What're you doing, Sweetheart?"

Remus didn't respond.

Dora observed him in silence for a long moment, lips pursed tightly together before drawing in a deep breath and reminding her husband:

"I got rid of them, Sweetheart. I poured them down the sink, I told you I had..."

"Must be...must be something..."

"No, love. You heard what the healer said..."

"...anything..."

"The painkillers might make you worse."

And to Carrie's shock Remus flung an arm forward to sweep across a shelf, sending an array of glass bottles, vials and potion ingredients tumbling to the floor with such a crash that it made the muggle flinch, her shoulders hunched as the werewolf rounded on his wife, face flushed in frustration as he cried:  
>"HOW CAN I POSSIBLY GET ANY WORSE?"<p>

Dora's gaze darted guiltily to her shoes for a moment as she drew in a deep, steadying breath, before she dared look up at him.

"Why don't you...why don't you go and have a lie down, love? Try to...try to have a sleep..."

"I can't sleep!" he snapped, eyes wide in fury. "I can't bloody sleep, I can't...can't rest! I can't _not_ rest! I can't even...even _think_! Everything's muddled, there's such a...such a _pressure_ in my head I...I can't do ANYTHING! I can't stand it any longer! Now...now either you find me a...a bloody potion or...or I'll apparate to Diagon Alley and...and bloody buy one myself!"

There was a very long, stunned silence. Remus reached to bury his face in his hands as if he couldn't quite believe himself and Dora eyed her shoes again because looking at him was much too difficult.

Carrie stood as still as a statue, barely daring to breathe as she watched the witch suck in a deep breath, still staring at her shoes, before she whispered:

"Alright. Alright, Sweetheart, I'll...I'll fetch one..." She reached to tug at the hem of her blouse in an effort to straighten out a crease or two, before straightening up as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Come..." she murmured, stepping forward so that she could reach to lay a tentative hand upon his arm. "Come on...watch...watch the glass..."

Carrie watched her slowly coax him forward a few steps, the shattered remnants of the potion bottles crunching under his feet, until Dora could reach to slide her arms around him, grip tightening as she insisted: "I'll get it. I'll get it soon, I promise, just...just hang on for a little longer, love, I promise...I promise it'll be better...I'll make it better...just wait a little...just a little longer, I promise..."

And yet the more she attempted to assure him, the more hunched his shoulders grew, fingers tugging in frustration at his hair and Carrie flinched again when he reached abruptly to push the witch's arms from around him with uncharacteristic force, and as Dora stumbled despairingly back against the wall he made a beeline for the sitting room, his steps clumsy and stomping. Within a second Dora had straightened up again and made after him and Carrie shuffled hurriedly towards the sitting room door too as, at the distinct sound of the pot of floo powder being snatched up from the mantlepiece, Dora called:

"Remus!"

But no sooner had the witch and muggle reached the doorway there came a whoosh of emerald flames in the grate, and Remus was gone.

The two of them stared at the empty fireplace despairingly for a long moment, before Dora muttered:

"Shit..."

"Where d'you think he's gone?" Carrie asked worriedly, gripping hold of the doorframe with one hand. "D'you think he went to get a potion?"

"Can't have..." Dora said as she stepped into the sitting room, wringing her hands together in apprehension. "His wallet's upstairs on his bedside table..."

"Where, then?" Carrie wondered as the witch went to retrieve the pot of floo powder, reaching to scoop up a handful, letting it sift through her fingers in contemplation.

"Merlin knows." the Auror concluded after a long moment, sounding deeply troubled, and as she wandered into the room after her Carrie admitted:

"I've never seen him be like that before. Not ever. Not with you."

Dora frowned deeply at the pot of floo powder, still sifting it through her fingers as she mumbled:

"He wasn't like anything. Because that wasn't like him...that's not him. That's not who I married at all..." she trailed off with a sniff, eyes blinking rather rapidly before she insisted: "Remus doesn't shout at me. He doesn't snap at me, doesn't order me, doesn't...doesn't push me...not ever." She glanced round at Carrie with a rather apologetic smile as she admitted: "They warned us, you know. All that pressure on his brain...it can disrupt things..."

"What things?" Carrie asked, stomach twisting into knots, and as she went back to sifting floo powder, Dora puffed her cheeks and recalled:

"Memory, attention span..._temper_..." she smiled again as she pointed out: "But only mildly, of course. The infection will kill him before he gets so bad he forgets who he is, or decides beat me black and blue for throwing his painkillers down the drain."

Carrie shuddered at the mere thought, but the witch concluded:

"So, don't worry about it!" Dora wandered forward towards the fireplace, eying it in consideration as if looking for clues. "It's only just starting." she mused, running a hand across the mantlepiece. "He's been waiting for it, he knows...he's frightened...I need to find him..."

"We'd better start looking." Carrie decided, beginning to pace up and down the room. "Where did he go? Maybe he's gone to Harry's..."

"Harry's on a raid. Besides, Remus will want to be on his own. Away from all of us..."

"Diagon Alley."

"Too busy."

"The Leaky Cauldron."

"Too noisy."

"The Hog's Head."

"Too..." Dora frowned deeply in an attempt to pick an adjective, before giving up and admitting: "It's not a poor bet. The Hog's Head is...well it's _safe_."

Carrie wasn't sure she had a clue what Dora meant. After all she was pretty sure one drink out of one of the filthy glasses at the Hog's Head tavern could be fatal...the germs! It made Carrie feel sick even to think of it.

"There weren't many places that were safe for us during the War." Dora recalled, still toying with the pot of floo powder. "But the Hog's Head was one of them. Aberforth was a miserable old git and his butterbeer tasted funny...but it was safe. And that's what Remus wants right now. Somewhere safe." Her fingers drumming thoughtfully against the mantlepiece, the Auror wondered: "Where? Where's safe?"

"Hogwarts." Carrie answered immediately. "Nowhere's safer than Hogwarts."

"Mm..." Dora agreed, still frowning, and so Carrie suggested:

"Grimmauld Place?"

"Perhaps...depends if Harry had the floo reconnected. I've not been back there...not since before."

Setting the pot of floo powder back down upon the mantlepiece, the Auror decided: "It's as good a place as any. Come on, let's start looking..."

They apparated to the familiar, dingy London street and once the dull brickwork and windows of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had revealed themselves, Dora drew her wand and, as she led the way cautiously up the steps to the front door, instructed:

"Keep behind me, Carrie. Members of the Order are always welcome here, Harry's always kept it as a refuge. But it's not so secret now, not since the Dousers broke in and you broadcast it's whereabouts to half of Wizarding Britain. It needs extra protection. I've been away for so long...Merlin knows what wards Harry's got on the place these days..."

The door creaked open to reveal the narrow, dusty hallway and yet despite expecting to squint through dim light, Carrie found herself faced with such a dazzling glow of silver that she reached to shield her eyes with a hand. At the sudden illumination, Dora raised her wand, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust her eyes, and as Carrie reached to rub her eyes, the Auror observed:

"Interesting, Harry..."

As Dora took a cautious step across the threshold, Carrie shuffling nervously after her, the muggle found the hallway blocked halfway down by a shimmering wall of blinding silver light, similar to that which Dora and Jasmine had shot across the arena just a few days previously. As Dora advanced slowly towards it, Carrie stepped further into the hallway, jumping when the door promptly swung itself shut behind her.

"Hello...?" Dora called, wand still raised as she took another step, boots creaking upon the floorboards, and quite suddenly there seemed to be a shift upon the wall's surface and a very familiar face materialised in the light.

"Strangers are not welcome in the Order of the Phoenix's safe haven." Harry Potter's face announced as Dora lowered her wand a little. "Give me news like only we do, or leave our place. "

He didn't sound a whole lot like Harry, Carrie didn't think. His voice was deeper, echoing, threatening, even...

"What news can I possibly give you?" Dora wondered, puffing her cheeks in consideration, apparently not feeling threatened at all. And with that she raised her wand and, with just a moment's pause, a silvery figure burst from the tip of her wand. The Auror's werewolf patronus bounded through the air until it came to a halt mere inches from the wall of light, and though her lips did not move, Dora's voice echoed down the hallway:

_Remus has gone walkabout, do you know where he is?_

And Harry's face instantly stopped glaring suspiciously, replaced by a welcoming smile.

"Welcome back to Headquarters, Tonks." he greeted graciously, and as she pocketed her wand, Dora asked:

"Just how sophisticated a spell are you? Is Remus here or not?"

But no sooner had she spoken, Harry's face had disappeared into the light again and all of a sudden the barrier disappeared, leaving the hallway in sudden darkness.

"Not massively sophisticated, then." Dora concluded. "Guess we'll be answering that question ourselves..." And with that, she set off up the hallway, heading for the stairs down towards the basement kitchen.

They found the kitchen void of life and headed upstairs to check the drawing room and the bedrooms, but Remus was nowhere to be seen. Carrie waited upon the stairs whilst Dora checked the damp and dingy attic bedroom, the one room Carrie could not bear to enter having visited it so many times years previously to talk to a steadily declining Hestia Jones, who had died not long after being removed from the bed that had become something of a prison to her.

The muggle lingered at the bottom on the stairs upon the landing below, listening to Dora's footsteps as she crossed the little landing and reached to push open the door, hinges creaking eerily and then...

Dora let out such a horrified shriek that despite her misgiving Carrie instantly darted clumsily up the steps after her, stumbling in her haste to reach the landing as above the witch cried:

"No! Please, no!"

"Dora?" Carrie shouted, only to be struck dumb in panic at a horrible, low moaning sound, a whimper of such pain and distress that it made Carrie's stomach twist into knots...

She stumbled to the doorway in time to see Dora's wand clatter to the floorboards as she dropped to her knees, reaching to scoop the limp, moaning figure up into her arms, grip desperately tight as she whispered:

"I've got you, it's alright, I promise I've got you..."

Remus only moaned louder, his face contorted in agony as he clutched at a deep, bloodied wound in his chest, blood soaking his bottle green robes...

Bottle green robes?

He hadn't been wearing those earlier. In fact Carrie was pretty sure he didn't own a set of robes that colour at all, and what in Merlin's name had he possibly done to injure himself so suddenly and so dreadfully...how had he dragged himself up the stairs and...

Something inside Carrie's head clicked.

"Dora!" she called, having to shout above the pained cries, "Dora, pick up your wand!" When the witch merely buried her face in the werewolf's shoulder, desperately begging him to calm down, her feeble attempts to hush him falling on entirely deaf ears, Carrie shrieked: "IT'S A BOGGART, DORA! IT'S A BOGGART, PICK UP YOUR WAND!"

Dora instantly dropped the figure to the floor, reaching to snatch up her wand as she leapt to her feet, backing off a few steps. She raised her wand, gasping in a deep, determined breath...

And yet then she froze, eyes squeezed shut and wand hand beginning to tremble, spell dying upon her tongue.

"It's just a boggart!" Carrie reminded her desperately as the witch tried again, gulping a fresh lungful of air, only to be silent. "It's just a boggart, Dora! It's not real!" Carrie insisted, only for the witch to give a rather choked laugh of disbelief.

"Isn't it?" the Auror wondered dully, and Carrie dared to rush forward to stand at her back, reaching to grab hold of her wrist to stop her hand from shaking.

"Of course it is!"

"Yeah? Swap beds with me this evening, listen to him whilst he's sleeping, we'll see if you still say so in the morning..."

"It's boggart, Dora, it's just a boggart..."

"There's no such thing as just a boggart, Carrie. Not when it might just as well be real. Merlin, listen to him...every night...every bloody night and I can't stop him, I can't make him any better..."

"D'you remember that time," Carrie asked, "when you took me on holiday with you and I fell in the stream and almost drowned? And when you and Remus had seen the state of me you had a good laugh and said how typical it was of me to get into trouble? And Teddy told the two of you it was wicked to laugh at something so horrible? Remus told him we have to laugh at bad things to keep from crying..."

"I cry already. I've not the energy to laugh." Dora admitted glumly, grip upon her wand slackening, and Carrie gritted her teeth in frustration for a moment before declaring:

"I'm not even meant to know about that conversation, I was supposed to be in bed asleep. But I wasn't, I was eavesdropping! Again! Can you just imagine the look of exasperation on Remus' face if he knew that?"

Dora managed a vague huff of amusement, and as if it had triggered a switch in her head she screwed her eyes shut and, gripping hold of her wand again muttered:

"Riddikulus!"

The figure gave a shudder, it's moaning interrupted and yet the blood still seeped from it's wounds, it's face still contorted in pain...

"Keep thinking!" Carrie pleaded, "Think of something else!"

"Riddikulus!" Dora tried again, voice much firmer this time, and quite suddenly the blood had gone, replaced instead by a scribbled red pattern across Remus' face and Carrie grinned at the memory of arriving back from Diagon Alley one afternoon to find Remus asleep on the sofa, Imogen poised above him brandishing Dora's brightest red lipstick with sheer triumph...

Both witch and muggle burst out laughing, just as they had back then and instead of being startled awake the boggart disappeared in an instant, slamming a wardrobe door shut behind it.

A relieved silence descended upon the room and Dora stumbled forward to drop down upon the bare mattress upon the bed, sighing heavily.

"Are you alright?" Carrie asked, feeling distinctly shaken herself by the experience, and the Auror simply reached to bury her face in her hands, sighing again.

"I've thought about it a lot, you know." she said after a long moment when Carrie came to perch gingerly upon the bed beside her, trying not to think of it's last occupant. "Death, I mean. What it would mean, Remus dying, me dying...all of that stuff. And I could come to terms with it, in a manner of speaking, because I thought at least one of us would die during the War, at the Battle of Hogwarts. I never thought we'd both live, I just didn't want to think it, I didn't want to hope. So I...I resigned myself to what death would mean, how it would change things...accepted that. And now Remus is...is dying I...well I have some sort of idea...a plan, I suppose. I know what to do, if I end up on my own. I know how to keep myself going, even if I can't bear to or don't see the point of it. I have that all figured out. That's why he wasn't dead, just then. Remus dying isn't what frightens me the most. It's him suffering that truly gets me. I can't stand him hurting, I can't stand him being in pain when nobody can help him. It...it wrecks me, it really does and I...I just can't cope! Voldemort...had he caught us at Hogwarts in the middle of a battle, he or any Death Eater, they'd have struck us dead in an instant. It wouldn't have hurt, it wouldn't be a traumatic death...but this...this is so dreadful, Carrie! It's so very, very dreadful...and pointless. It's a pointless, painful, prolonged death..."

They contemplated the dusty room in silence for a long moment, until Dora wondered:

"What's your boggart, Carrie?"

"Can I even have one?" Carrie asked, frowning deeply. "Do boggarts go for muggles?"

"I have no idea, but I would if I were them. You've no way to defend yourself, for one thing."

Carrie fiddled with a stray strand of hair in consideration, wondering what frightened her most in the world, what would cause her more dread than anything else.

She thought of the summer when she had been a teenager and had gone round to the Lupins' house only to find all three of them gone without a trace, how depressed and hopeless she had felt in the following month before they had been reunited. She thought of the threat of being Obliviated and how it had terrified her and given her nightmares...

"Losing Ted and you and Remus. And Immy. Being dumped back in the Muggle world or...or Obliviated."

Dora let out a heavy sigh.

"Then I wish I were like you." the witch murmured sadly. "I wish I had lived through my fear and survived it. I wish I knew I was going to survive." She sighed again, reaching to sweep the mousy hair from her eyes, before getting heavily to her feet and deciding: "Come on, we should keep looking."

Next they apparated to the village of Hogsmeade, where Dora led the way off the main road into a side street, and they shuffled out of the drizzling rain into the grubby confides of the Hog's Head Inn. Despite the early time, there were a handful of patrons dotted around inside, nursing dusty glasses of whisky and bottles of butterbeer. Carrie felt compelled to stay close to Dora's side as the Auror strode straight up to the bar, where the distinctly ancient-looking barman looked up from rearranging glasses to look at her.

"Alright, Aberforth?" Dora asked, leaning lightly against the bar. "I don't suppose you've seen Remus this morning, have you?"

Aberforth Dumbledore squinted at the witch for a long moment, as if he didn't quite recognise her, before shaking his head.

"Not seen him in a long while, Tonks."

"Oh..."

"Had a row, have you?"

"In a manner of speaking...if you see him, tell him I was looking, won't you?"

"'Course. Drink?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"How're the goats?"

"Good. Want to see 'em?"

"Maybe another time."

"Hmph."

"Need to track Remus down, you know..."

"Hm."

"We'll be off then."

"Right. You see that bleeding Fletcher, tell 'im he owes me five galleons."

"Sure. Bye, then."

"Hm."

And with that, Dora turned on her heel and led the way back outside.

"Aberforth Dumbledore. A man of few words!" she observed once the door had swung shut at Carrie's back. They strode back around the corner onto the main road, whereupon Dora came to a halt, sighing heavily as she looked up and down the street searchingly.

"We could try the Three Broomsticks." Carrie suggested, but Dora's gaze had suddenly grown fixated upon something in the opposite direction.

"No...I've a better hunch than that..." the werewolf's wife murmured, and with that she reached to grasp hold of Carrie by the arm and quite suddenly Carrie felt the sickening pull of apparation.

The Shrieking Shack, perched upon a hilltop overlooking the village of Hogsmeade, seemed to Carrie to be in such a poor state of repair that were it not for the magic holding it together it would no doubt crumble and fall to pieces within the blink of an eye. No visible pathway led up to the ramshackle door, for the surround grass had grown so long that it had formed a thick green carpet upon the craggy hill. Abandoned lengths of wood that had once been nailed across the door had been removed and discarded upon the grass. The Shack itself was quite possibly the most dismal and sorry looking place that Carrie had ever set eyes upon, and she told Dora so.

"Funny," the Auror murmured as they made their way up towards the door. "It's so battered and broken looking, but it's been a stronghold in more ways than one. And it's the bleakest place I know of, but it gave Remus such hope as a child...it gave him a fighting chance..."

The door opened with such a groan of protest that it made Carrie flinch, the morning sunlight flooding the narrow hallway within, revealing the dust and decay in all it's glory. It smelt of damp that made Carrie's nose wrinkle as she followed Dora inside. The door swung shut again, caught by a breeze, and the darkness was instead punctured a moment later by light from Dora's wand. The floorboards beneath their feet creaked almost as dreadfully as the door and though she was not sure why, Carrie felt compelled to creep. They made it to the end of the narrow passageway where a door had been left ajar, and Dora reached to push it open just a crack, peering through the darkness within.

"Remus...?" she called, voice not raised much above a whisper, and Carrie rose up upon her tiptoes in an attempt to squint through the gloom herself.

They heard the distinct sound of movement, the creaking of a bed frame and Dora reached to push the door open a little wider.

At the state of the room within, Carrie felt quite taken aback.

The walls and floorboards were all bare wood and there was little furniture save for a bed with a torn, filthy mattress, a meagre chest of drawers and a wooden chair in one corner. Through the dark Carrie could see all over the floor and walls deep claw marks slashed across the wood, large chunks chipped out of the furniture, teeth marks upon the shutters at the window...

Remus was sat upon the bed, fingers tracing the slashes upon the bedpost, gazing at them so intently that he seemed not to notice Dora carefully cross the room and sink down onto the moth-eaten mattress beside him.

Carrie lingered in the doorway, feeling distinctly shaky at the state of the place. It felt far too private a place to simply wander into, much too personal, much too intrusive.

She'd only panicked briefly as a child to be informed by Teddy that Remus was in actual fact a werewolf, and she was still entirely unaware of where he went every full moon or just how many protective charms were cast over the place, or how poor a state Remus was actually in prior to her stumbling across him lying upon the sofa back home having had Dora spend a good half an hour cleaning him up and making him look a bit more presentable.

She never asked about what went on each month, either. It was one of the few mysteries within the family that she had never been let in on. Sometimes she wasn't entirely sure that Teddy knew all the facts, either.

Which was why the state of the little room in the Shrieking Shack made her stomach twist into such dreadful knots.  
>Of course it was better now, it was different with Wolfsbane...<p>

And yet he would forgo it, sometimes. When money was short. He'd cross it off their list of essentials for the month and there would be clawing and ripping, tearing and blood...

Carrie wondered when the last time was that he had made such a sacrifice, and felt sick at the thought that since Teddy had unknowingly emptied his parents' vault of their savings it probably hadn't been all that long ago.

Dora leant sideways until she could rest her head upon Remus' shoulder, and for a long moment they simply sat in complete and utter silence.

"Come home, Sweetheart." the witch said at last, reaching to pull his hand away for it's inspection of the scratches so that she could grasp hold of it in both of her own. "You'll do yourself no favours sitting around here."

"I'll do you plenty." the werewolf mumbled, frowning deeply, but she ignored him.

"I won't hear a word of it. Come on," she said, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. "Let's get some fresh air, it's horrible and stuffy in here."

Despite his frowning, Remus allowed her to pull him up onto his feet, and as he stumbled a little she gripped his arm reassuringly.

"You just need to be out of the house a while." Dora observed, reaching to sweep the hair back from his face with a smile. "I know, love. I get it. But you don't need to shut yourself away like this. Let's just...let's go outside and go for a walk!"

"I don't know..." Remus mumbled reluctantly, only for her face to suddenly brighten.

"Do you remember," she wondered, reaching to slip a hand through the crook of his arm, "Back when I got stationed at Hogsmeade to guard the school and I gave the other Aurors the slip for an hour so we could go for a walk up here? It started off as a casual stroll and wound up an impromptu competition of who had a better aim with stinging jinxes. And I won."

"You didn't." Remus murmured despite himself as they set stiffly off towards the door, Carrie stepping aside to let them pass so that she could follow behind them.

"Yes I did. D'you hear this, Carrie? He's a rotten liar!"

"You didn't really win. I just let you." Remus explained wearily, and his wife positively scowled at him.

"Oh really?"

"Mm."

"Right, outside this instant! Carrie can be the judge, we're having a rematch!"

"I'd rather not..."

"I don't care!"

"I'm tired, Dora..."

"You're not getting out of it! Reckon I'll let you just lie and try and say your aim's better than mine? We'll see about that!"

It was still raining outside, and yet they headed down the hill a short way until they located a tree, whereupon Carrie found herself instructed to pick a point upon the trunk that Dora marked with a small glowing cross. Remus allowed her to tow him backwards until they were quite some distance away, before the witch gave him a firm nudge and he murmured:

"Ladies first."

Remus only took a handful of shots at the makeshift target before growing too weary, and instead Dora coaxed him into conjuring a moving target that swept back and forth through the air, leaving Dora to sprint this way and that in her attempts to hit it, Carrie and Remus applauding her efforts enthusiastically or shouting criticism should she miss. It was not long before the three of them were distinctly drenched, Remus had grown shivery and Dora breathless. They retreated to the Three Broomsticks in search of warmth and butterbeer, squabbling over who had won the brief competition, and Dora begrudgingly decided to name it a draw. They stumbled into the pub, whereupon Dora was greeted by a number of people brightly wishing her luck for the upcoming second round of the duelling championships, and she greeted them cheerily until a complete stranger approached their table, dropping down that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet down with a faint slap.

"Good on yeh!" the stranger, a tall wizard with a substantial belly on him grinned. "You show 'er how it's done, won't you?" And with that he stomped over to the bar and called: "Madam Rosmerta! I'll 'ave a butterbeer! An' one fer our fine dueller over there, too!"

And Dora looked down at the headline upon the newspaper, expression bordering on murderous as she read:

LUGA RETALIATES AFTER DEPUTY HEAD OF AURORS LABELS HER A DISGRACE TO THE AUROR PROFESSION: We'll see who's a disgrace...in the arena, Albanian Dueller tells reporter!

"Oh bloody hell..." the Auror muttered, reaching to snatch up the paper.


	13. Warning Signs

_Note: I gave myself time off of the hectic series of occurrences otherwise known as My Life to write this chapter, in celebration of me officially gaining my FdA in Editing & Post Production. Sadly for all of you that means I will be studying for my BA this coming October, which probably means I will have no time to write and might possibly forget that fanfiction even exists..._

_In other news, I've started writing the final story in this series! (Minus some random one shots to fill in some gaps.) Thank you to everybody who voted in the poll and helped me dream up a rough idea for its plot. I have finished writing the opening chapter, complete with a ridiculously long-winded AN. I'll be posting it once this story is over, which will probably be in about four or five chapters time._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**13: Warning Signs**

"I've told her at least three times today, I honestly have!" Carrie informed her husband as he dusted the last of the soot from his robes, before giving up entirely and shrugging them off instead.

"Three times?" Teddy said, arching an eyebrow in disbelief, and Carrie insisted:

"Yes! I keep telling her! I tell her Grandad's perfectly capable of picking up a glass of water by himself, he doesn't need help! But will she listen? She's thrown water all over him and made him choke twice!"

"Bless her." Teddy sniggered, much to Carrie's fury, and then to the muggle's intense annoyance he wondered: "Is Mum home yet? What's for dinner?"

It had been two days since Imogen's first attempt to "help" her grandfather, and despite Carrie's repeated protests the little girl seemed entirely hell-bent on assisting in Remus' recovery, whether anybody else liked it or not. Carrie was growing increasingly frustrated by the whole business, especially since the rest of the family, including Remus, seemed to find it all amusing rather than anything else.

"Teddy," she said as Teddy made a beeline for the kitchen, forcing her to hurry along after him. "How in Merlin's name is your dad supposed to rest properly when every ten minutes he's got Imogen...pouring water over his face or...or trying to rearrange his pillows and check his temperature?"

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Teddy said, and Carrie very nearly bit through her tongue to stop herself from shouting at him.

"He's getting WORSE, Ted!" she snapped furiously. "He's not been out of bed since yesterday afternoon!"

"That's because he's dying." a flat voice reminded the two of them dully from behind them, and they turned to find Dora stumbling somewhat wearily down the hallway, apparently fresh out of the floo herself.

Carrie felt rather as if she had been slapped.

Dora looked nothing but skin and bones. Carrie had not caught sight of her for a while without robes to cover her, and the sight of her instead dressed in jeans and t-shirt made the muggle's stomach clench. There were dark circles under the witch's eyes and her skin had taken on a somewhat waxen quality that made her look distinctly sickly.

"Alright, Mum?" Teddy murmured, voice suddenly quiet, and as she sidled past Carrie in the doorway, Dora looked her son up and down before asking:

"Come out with me for half an hour before dinner?"

"Me...?"

"Mm."

"Where's Robert?"

"Late shift. C'mon, if you're not too tired Carrie's got dinner covered, haven't you Carrie love?"

Carrie found herself giving a feeble nod, and with that she watched the two of them troop out into the back garden. She went to fill a saucepan with water and set it down upon the hob to boil and for a while stood gazing out of the back window into the garden, watching mother and son as they took turns attacking and defending, moving back and forth across the grass. By the time she had set the sausages in a dish and put them in the oven, she turned back to the window just in time to watch Dora over-balance, stiff ankle buckling as she dodged Teddy's attack, leaving the witch to fall flat upon her back, cursing. When she did not immediately make to stand up again, causing Teddy to hurry over to check she was alright, Carrie abandoned the chopping of broccoli in favour of rushing out onto the patio.

"Are you okay?" she called as she came to a halt, and Teddy reached to grab his mother firmly by the arm, pulling her up into a sitting position, only for her to flop back down upon the grass again. For a moment Carrie wondered if perhaps Dora had hit her head and was dazed, only for Teddy to drop to his knees, reaching to fling his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"You're alright." Carrie heard him say, and with that he dragged her to her feet. There the two of them stood for a long moment, her face buried in his shoulder. Carrie watched Teddy run a probing hand down his mother's spine, frowning deeply at the bumps and groves before he wondered:

"Are you eating, Mum? Properly, I mean?"

Dora frowned deeply.  
>"Define properly..." she mumbled evasively, and Teddy's face contorted in worry.<p>

"Merlin, Mum..."

At the beginnings of protest, Dora planted her feet more firmly upon the ground and pushed Teddy away from her.

"Let's go again." she suggested, but Teddy didn't move.

"You know," he pointed out, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "If the Ministry were to conduct health checks tomorrow morning they'd suspend you from work on the spot. In fact why nobody did that the moment you walked through the door this morning is totally beyond me..."

"I'm fine, Ted."

"You're not. You're a mess."

"So's your footwork, but you don't here me complaining about it. Once more before dinner!"

Shaking her head a little at the scene, Carrie retreated back inside. She checked on the sausages and went back to chopping vegetables, and once they too were cooking she set the table, musing that Dora's sluggish recovery out in the garden was not entirely surprising, but her weight loss perhaps was. Of course stress could devastate the body quite successfully given the chance, but Dora did eat relatively regular meals. Carrie watched her eat breakfast every morning, they shared lunch too when Dora was at home, and even if she skipped lunch whilst at work Carrie had always made a point of cooking large dinners. Dora rarely failed to clear her plate.

She made a point of doing so, that evening, just to prove a point. Had Imogen not been at the table, Carrie would not have been surprised had the witch licked the plate clean for good measure. She rose from the table once finished, holding her hands out towards the empty plate dramatically as she announced:

"Ta-dah!"

"Alright, I get your point." Teddy grumbled, reaching to pour himself a glass of orange juice, and his mother disappeared somewhat smugly out of the room and upstairs to check on Remus, as she did every evening after dinner. She left in such a hurry that she quite forgot to take Remus' dinner with her, and once she had finished off her last sausage, Carrie went to retrieve the plate from beside the stove and took it upstairs herself.

She found Dora curled up upon the bed at Remus' side, her face buried in the duvet, arms hugging her stomach tightly as she mumbled:

"Bloody hell..."

"Try not to think about it." Remus was saying, reaching to smooth her hair.

"I know, I know..."

"Perhaps you should have a drink."

"I could use several, Remus."

"Of water, Dora."

"I'm thinking vodka. Empty my entire stomach and be done with it!"

"Is my cooking really that bad?" Carrie asked a little uncertainly as she stepped into the room, and though Remus managed a weak snigger, Dora groaned loudly.

"Don't take it personally, love." the Auror murmured into the duvet. "It's not your food I have anything against, it's just...food in general..."

"Are you sick?" Carrie asked worriedly as she went to set Remus' dinner down upon the bedside table. Dora lifted her head up to eye the plate of food, nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Not really, no..." she mumbled, sliding off the bed and wandering out onto the landing, mumbling: "Let me just...splash my face or something..."

"She _is_ sick, isn't she?" Carrie observed, dropping down to perch upon the edge of the bed, and as he adjusted the duvet in his lap, Remus paused, reaching with thumb and forefinger to pluck something up off of Dora's vacant pillow.

"In a manner of speaking." the werewolf admitted softly, holding up the single hair for inspection, before reaching to flick a few more from the pillow. "Stress is a debilitating thing at times. I noticed the hairs about a week or so ago and nerves have churned her stomach to jelly, she's always feeling queasy." He offered Carrie a raised eyebrow as he recalled: "She tells me she's intent on keeping me company. She's had the odd sickly spell, but she's not quite thrown a faint like I have yet."

Carrie managed a rather horrified little laugh.

Remus wasn't at all amused.

"She needs to pull out of the Championship." he informed the muggle bluntly. "And take sick leave. She'll land herself in Mungo's one of these days, I swear it."

"The Championship gives her hope!" Carrie reminded him, feeling suddenly quite fierce in her defence, just as she had when Harry had made a protest.

"The Championship doesn't give her anything!" Remus retorted, sounding suddenly bad tempered. "Except for stress! Injury! The training in itself is too much to ask of her with all the other things she does at the Ministry! As for the actual contests...!"

"She might win." Carrie insisted stubbornly, quite taken aback by his abrupt change in attitude, for he had always seemed so supportive in the past, and she felt quite crushed when he gave a huff and grunted:

"Dora's not going to win, Carrie. Look at the state of her, for Merlin's sake! Valbona Luga would beat ten barrels out of her as soon as look at her! Pair them up in the second round and Luga will have Dora out cold within a minute!"

Carrie simply gawped at him, utterly mortified. Of course she had grown steadily accustomed to his increasingly frequent deeply pessimistic moods, but this was something else entirely...

"James Potter probably lasted about half a minute against Voldemort, if he was lucky." Dora's voice pointed out from the doorway, causing Carrie to flinch. The muggle didn't even want to look round, knowing that Dora had no doubt heard every word that Remus had said. "And I bet he knew he would, too. He could've tried to run away, but he stood there all the same. For the sake of hope."

"You can't compare James and Voldemort to yourself and Luga." Remus said, quite stung by the comparison, and as she came to sit upon the bed, Dora asked:

"Why not?"

"Because! That was a war! That was life and death! It was...it was Voldemort, for Merlin's sake!"

Dora's gaze upon her husband grew distinctly dark as she leant towards him, staring intently.

"This is a war, Sweetheart." she informed him simply. "It's my war. It's our life or death. Me versus that ticking time bomb in that head of yours. And if Valbona Luga can so convincingly kick the crap out of me when I come across her, that makes her my ultimate obstacle. My Voldemort."

And Remus sighed and reminded her:

"We didn't defeat Voldemort, Dora. Harry did."

"Then I shall have to go down fighting then," Dora decided stubbornly. "Like James. For the sake of hope." With that, she rose back to her feet and instructed: "Now be quiet and eat your dinner."

"I'm sure he doesn't mean it." Carrie mumbled a few minutes later when she followed Dora back downstairs. "I'm sure, you know...he's not well and...well..."

"He means it." Dora assured her, not sounding particularly bothered. "He's had enough, he wants me at home with him, not charging around the Ministry gymnasium morning noon and night. He wants me to rest, to be fit and healthy...sane, even."

"Well I think you're sane at the very least!" Carrie assured her as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Dora let out a huff of disbelief, shaking her head.

"I'm not sure I'm sane in the slightest." she admitted with a sigh. "My nerves are in shreds and my composure's wrecked. Especially...especially at night, when I've got nothing to do except lie there thinking and I...I come over so bloody overwhelmed and emotional half the time! Remus watches me...I laugh and I sob, I say it'll all work out fine and then I...I tell him I can't do it, that I can't cope and I...I want to give up, quit duelling...quit working, even! I sweat and I shiver! I feel utterly drained and motionless, then I tremble so violently that I can't stop no matter how I try...and I just think I can't stand it, I can't face it all when the morning comes around again! I'm about as predictable as Remus is these days. Merlin, what a pair we make!"

Carrie thought this was probably true given that she wasn't sure if Dora was about to laugh at this recollection or cry. The muggle felt quite relieved when the witch chose to do the former.

They met Imogen in the hallway, but she slipped past them without a word and bolted up the stairs. It was something that Carrie had grown quite accustomed to seeing recently, and though she felt almost tempted to sigh she did not truly think much of it.

But within half an hour that was all about to change.

Dora went to flop down upon the sofa in the sitting room, falling asleep within minutes, and Carrie went to help Teddy finish clearing the kitchen after dinner. As she stood placing cutlery away in a drawer, Carrie found herself musing that this was the first time in a couple of days that she and Teddy had really been alone together, and she felt compelled to tell him so.

Pocketing his wand as the last of the dinner plates stacked themselves neatly away in their designated cupboard, Teddy crossed the kitchen to stand just behind her, chin coming to rest upon her shoulder.

"Don't worry," he told her, reaching to wrap his arms tightly around her waist. "It'll not be long now before I take my final exams! And then I'll have a whole week off before Mum fails me or officially qualifies me! That's an entire week away from the Ministry!"

As she dropped the last fork into the drawer and pushed it shut, Carrie leant back against him, sighing dramatically.

"Oh, the things we'll do!" she exclaimed sarcastically, and Teddy's grip upon her tightened.

"I know, I know." he sighed, leaning to press a kiss to her collarbone. "I know it won't be the way we planned it, I know we won't leave Immy with Mum and Dad and go away for the week. But we'll do things, I promise..."

"We'll sit around here fretting for seven days." Carrie insisted.

"Perhaps a little." Teddy admitted reluctantly. "But we'll go out too. We could go and watch the Wasps play, I've not been to a Quidditch match for ages! Or if it's sunny we could pick somewhere pretty and have a picnic! We've not done that in a while, have we? Hot chocolate in a flask and...and jam sandwiches..."

"And some cake."

"Exactly! We'll have a lovely time, Sweetheart. I promise."

"I'll look forward to it." Carrie decided, turning around in his arms to offer him the brightest smile she had worn in days, and after pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, Teddy admitted:

"We ought get Immy home and in bed. Wake Mum for me, and I'll go check on Dad and drag Imogen out from underneath the duvet."

Teddy made a beeline for the stairs and Carrie wandered slowly down the hallway towards the sitting room, only to pause at the distinct whooshing sound of somebody exiting the floo network. She heard the usual sound of somebody attempting to dust soot from their clothes, before she heard a familiar voice call:

"Hey, you left a stack of files on Isaac's desk and...Tonks?"

"Hm?" Dora mumbled groggily, and as Carrie took a step forward she watched Robert Wilde cross the room to where the witch lay upon the sofa. The wizard slapped the flimsy paper folder he was holding against her shoulder and instructed:

"Wake up."

Dora rolled reluctantly onto her back, blinking sleep from her eyes, and upon finding her fellow Auror stood staring down at her, she observed:

"Oh, it's you."

"Don't sound so thrilled to see your knight in shining armour!" Robert exclaimed in mock-offence, and she groaned and muttered:

"Sod off."

"Your words, not mine!"

"I don't care."

"Oh Robert! What would I do without you?"

"Shut up, Robert."

"I tell you what you'd do! You'd stand around like a lemon and get your arse kicked by the Swiss in front of a massive home crowd! I mean, what the bloody hell were you thinking, anyway?"

"Like I said a million times already, I don't want to talk about it."

"Losing your touch, are you?"

In response to this last jibe, Dora drew back a foot and kicked him sharply in the kidneys, causing him to jump back, narrowly avoiding dropping the papers he was holding.

"Just kidding!" he cried as Dora reached for a cushion to hug to her chest. "Bloody hell, you aren't half touchy, d'you know that?"

"You have no idea." she murmured, sighing heavily, then her eyes narrowed and she asked: "Did you want something? You know, except the opportunity to take the piss out of me?"

"Isaac said you forgot to pick up these. Again." Robert explained, waving the files around in front of her, and she groaned and muttered:

"Just burn them."

Robert tossed the folder down upon the floor with a chuckle, before dropping down after them to sit upon the floor, his shoulder resting against her arm.

"Tonks?"

"Robert."

There was a sizeable pause, before he turned to gaze at her intently, causing her grip upon the cushion she was holding to tighten a little.

"I was wondering..."

"Mm?"

"...if...well...you know..."

"I don't. You're going to have to spell it out for me."

"Right...well...it's just it's been a while, you know...since...since last time I came over here to...to talk about work stuff."

Dora said nothing.

Robert reached to scratch his head a little awkwardly for a moment before he reminded her:

"You screamed and shouted at me last time and then you kicked me out of the house."

There was another long pause, before Dora reluctantly mumbled:

"Oh...yeah."

"Yeah, and I was wondering...if maybe we should...you know, talk about it."

Dora yawned widely, and then she asked:

"Are you planning on making a formal complaint about my behaviour to the Wizengamot?"

Robert looked utterly bemused.

"Merlin, no! Of course not!"

"Well then," Dora decided, throwing the cushion towards the end of the sofa and sitting up. "We don't need to talk about it."

"I think we do." Robert protested, scrambling hurriedly to his feet as if to block her escape.

"Why?"

"Because! Because it was...I was..."

"Did I upset you?"

"Well yes..."

"Well then, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I was upset myself..."

"Exactly! You were upset! I don't care that you shouted at me or that you were rude, that didn't upset me! I was upset because...I _am_ upset because you were upset!"

Dora looked rather as if she wanted to sigh again, but instead she forced herself to smile.

"That's touching, honestly," she said, reaching to slap a hand down upon his arm, using it to pull herself up and off the sofa. "But there's nothing to be upset about. Remus and I just had a bit of an argument, that's all."

"It didn't look like a bit of an argument to me!"

"That's because I'm an appalling drama queen. And, having being married to me for far too long, Remus knows exactly what to say to massively piss me off. It's just...normal, married life sort of stuff, you know? You don't know, obviously, because you've never been married. In fact you doubly don't know because you've never been married to somebody as awful as me. Count your lucky stars, Robert!"

As she stooped to retrieve the folder, eying it wearily, Robert folding her arms firmly across his chest, expression distinctly disbelieving.

"Alright then," he said, gaze upon her piercing. "Lie to me all you like, but tell me one thing."

"What's that?" Dora asked, straightening up.

"What were you staring at? In the arena, when I had to shout at you, what were you staring at?"

Dora went back to staring at the folder as if the label stuck upon the front cover was utterly fascinating. She chewed thoughtfully upon her bottom lip, frowning ever so slightly, and then she dropped the folder down upon the sofa.

"Listen, Robert," she said, taking a step closer so that she could stare at him intently. "I know you mean well and I know it's...difficult for us these days, me being Deputy and us working and trying to be friends without screwing things up and...and stuff. And I know how...how great it is, us still being friends after years and years, us being the last of Mad-Eye's lot and...and that meaning we stick together. I know it's special, you being my friend. But...but the thing is...well...you know..."

"I don't know." Robert informed her, sounding very defensive. "You'll have to spell it out for me."

"I know we're good friends, Robert, but...well...I'm not your...your _best friend_, am I?"

Robert simply stared at her.

"Aren't you?" he said, causing her to visibly wince.

"I don't mean it like...like that, I just mean that, well..."

"I'm not _your_ best friend." Robert summarised, sounding marginally hurt.

"Don't say it like that," Dora told him, "We're not school children, for starters, and I don't really think I have a best friend. Other than Remus, but he doesn't exactly count...or he does...but he doesn't...I mean I love all of you guys at work, I really do. For different reasons, obviously. We're great friends, you and me. We're dead close, I know that. Bust just because we're really close, that doesn't mean that we...that we always should be, you know?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Well I just think maybe we should...maybe just...take a step backwards, sometimes..."

"You mean we shouldn't be close?"

"Well...sort of..."

"You think we shouldn't be friends?"

"No! That's not what I mean at all..."

"But you think we shouldn't be close friends?"

"Exactly!"

Robert frowned deeply, turning the concept around in his mind for a moment before his face contorted in annoyance and he asked:

"Is this because I kissed you?"

For a second Dora looked as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

"What? Oh! No! No, no, that's got nothing to do with it, I don't give a toss about that."

"It is, isn't it? Oh bloody hell, Tonks..."

"Honestly, Robert! I don't care about that at all, it didn't even cross my mind!"

"I can't believe you're going to shun me just because I..."

"Do it again!" Dora cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I don't care!"

"No!" he snapped, unnaturally petulant. "For Merlin's sake, Tonks! Why didn't you...why didn't you say something? You should've bloody hexed me or something..."

"You're smothering me!" Dora exclaimed at last, hands balling into fists. "It's got sod all to do with you kissing me, Robert! The truth is you're smothering me! You and all the others! Back off, all of you! Give me some room to breathe! Stop looking at me so strangely! Stop asking me how I am all the time! Don't keep offering to buy me bloody coffee and don't keep telling me you're there if I need to talk! Why can't any of you see that I don't want to talk? Stop asking me questions you know I don't want to answer! I know you all mean well and it's kind of you, I know it is, but I just can't stand it! I need space!"

There was a sizeable, rather shocked pause before Robert asked:

"Do you shriek at Jasmine and Isaac like this? Or am I special in some way?"

Dora let out a somewhat hysterical little laugh, reaching to throw her arms around him.

"Oh you're special, trust me." she told him as he stood motionless, not hugging him back.

At that moment Teddy came down the stairs, carrying the remnants of Remus' dinner, Imogen skipping noisily along behind him, and for a long moment Robert watched their descent thoughtfully before asking Dora:

"Where's Remus tonight?"

"Upstairs." Dora replied without much thought, and Robert eyed the plate in Teddy's hands for a moment before observing:

"He's upstairs a lot, isn't he? The last three or four times I've been here he's..."

"Stop asking bloody questions!" Dora snapped, only for Teddy to shout from the hallway:  
>"Mum! Little ears!"<p>

Dora flinched, releasing Robert and spinning round towards the doorway to find the little ears in question stood listening intently.

"Is it bedtime then, Sweetheart?" she asked as Imogen trailed into the room, eying Robert curiously. "Come and give Nana a big cuddle!"

As Teddy passed Carrie in the hallway, the muggle murmured:

"I'll just go say goodnight to your dad, then."

She took the stairs at a jog and slipped across the landing into the dim bedroom. In the short few moments since Teddy and Imogen had left him, Remus appeared to have fallen fast asleep, and as she crept round to the side of the bed to gaze down at him, the sleeping werewolf shifted uncomfortably, his brow creasing deeply. Upon closer inspection she found he appeared to be gritting his teeth, and the muggle wondered how few painkilling potions Dora had relented and given him that day. Carrie reached to halt his fingers' hopeless clawing at the duvet, gripping his hand reassuringly as she bent down to drop a light kiss to his crumpled brow.

"Stick around for us, won't you?" she whispered, free hand rearranging the duvet around him, and when she made to straighten up she found that he appeared to be grasping hold of her hand. She tried unsuccessfully to prise herself free, finally resorting to taking hold of his arm, pulling it away from her...

And as she did so his sleeve slid up his arm ever so slightly, revealing the pale skin at his frail wrist, and Carrie paused, staring...

A small, neat line of curved little red dents had been pressed into his skin, leaving the surrounding area red and sore, and as Carrie leant further forward to peer at them she was surprised to see that they were deep, puncturing the skin like a line of tiny little blades...

Fingernails. Small, sharp little fingernails...

Carrie finally managed to pull her hand free from Remus' grasp and she reached to pull back the sleeve of his other arm, too.

Again, she found the same piercing little cuts, yet these seemed worse...deeper until little flecks of blood had been drawn...

Carrie was forced to bite her tongue in a mixture of fury and confusion as she carefully set his hand back down upon the duvet, before turning and making a beeline for stairs, rushing down them non-too quietly and if her noisy descent did not draw the attention of those in the sitting room who had just bid Robert goodnight, they certainly did all turn to stare at he when she came to a sudden halt in the doorway and demanded to know:

"Imogen! What have you been doing?"


	14. Morning at the Ministry

_Note: This didn't end of the cliffhanger I originally planned! But I thought it was a nice line to end on! We have about 3 chapters left after this one!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**14: Morning At the Ministry**

"Aren't you worried?"

"For the last time, Carrie, no! Now for Merlin's sake, it's two o'clock in the morning!"

"Why not?! How can you not be worried?!"

"Why should I be?!"

"Because! It's...weird, Ted!"

"It's not weird, it's bloody tragic! The poor girl...you shouldn't be keeping her in the house so much, you really shouldn't..."

"You think it's my fault?!"

"I didn't say that, I'm just saying..."

"You think me not...not taking her to the park or...or the shops every day is the perfect explanation as to why she'd start...start doing...doing goodness knows what! To her own grandfather, for Merlin's sake!"

"I'm just saying! Being cooped up in the house all day long with everything that's going on isn't good for her! What in Merlin's name are you saying, anyway?! What do you think she's been doing?! D'you think we've...we've got some sort of...of evil child who's attempting to...what? I don't even know, I don't want to even talk about it, it's utterly stupid and ridiculous..."

"No it isn't! You saw it, Ted! She'd drawn blood, she'd hurt him!"

"She was trying to help him."

"Help him do what?!"

"Merlin knows, Carrie! But be reasonable! You can't possibly think Imogen wants to...to hurt her own grandfather! It's the most ridiculous and...and dreadful thing I've ever heard!"

"Ted..."

"She's your daughter!"

"But..."

"She's four years old!"

"But what about before?! She's choked him with water, she's..."

"That's it. I've had enough!"

Carrie watched in despair as Teddy flung back the duvet, bare feet slapping down upon the floor as he got out of bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, heart hammering in her chest, and as he snatched up his pillow and stuffed it under his arm, Teddy informed her:

"I'm going to sleep on the sofa!"

"Don't be silly, Ted." Carrie attempted to reason, only for him to stalk over towards the bedroom door.

"Let me know when you decide to act like a sane and rational human being." he told her sourly, and with that he stalked out of the room, leaving her to stare despairingly after him.

Carrie had been trying to talk to Teddy about what had happened back at Remus and Dora's house ever since they had tucked Imogen into bed. Needless to say he had not taken her concerns particularly well. Carrie rather wished she had thought a bit more about what precisely her concerns were before she had attempted to voice them.

It was not, as Teddy claimed, that she thought Imogen was being in someway evil. Evil was an extremely strong word, after all...

Carrie hadn't quite decided what sort of word she did want to use to label her daughter's behaviour with. When confronted in the living room, Imogen had stood chewing upon her nails as Carrie had told Teddy and Dora about Remus' little injuries, and when Dora had calmly turned to ask what precisely Imogen had been doing upstairs after dinner, the little girl had simply shrugged.

After insisting they go and take a look at the scratches themselves, Carrie had suggested waking Remus up to ask him precisely what had happened, but both Dora and Teddy had shot her down.

Let him rest, they'd both insisted, let's not wake him up for something so silly.

Carrie had insisted that she didn't think it silly in the slightest, indeed she was surprised that they did not agree with her. In response Teddy had reached to take hold of her hand, towing her towards the fireplace and Dora had assured her that she would ask Remus about it first thing in the morning.

Carrie had known there and then that she would not want to wait until morning to talk about what had happened. She wanted to talk about it now, whilst it was all fresh in her mind, it was much too strange, it was keeping her awake...

She lay staring at the bedroom doorway for several long minutes, attempting to order her thoughts in some way. But the only thing that sprung to mind was the fact that she had forgotten to tell Teddy about Imogen's earlier strange behaviour, how she had managed to open the chest of drawers in her bedroom. Because she had opened them, Carrie felt strangely certain, now. Of course it didn't make sense. Teddy had examined every inch of those drawers, cast every spell he could possibly think of in an attempt to prise them open without any luck. It didn't make sense that Imogen could open them without any effort at all...

Except she had done. She just had, Carrie knew it.

Still unable to settle in bed, Carrie threw back the covers with a sigh and slipped out of bed. She crept out of the bedroom and across the little hallway, reaching carefully to open Imogen's bedroom door, only to freeze to hear movement to her left.

"Carrie?" Teddy's voice hissed, and she turned to spy him peering through the sitting room doorway at her from his position lying upon the sofa. "What are you doing?"

"I..." Carrie opened her mouth to speak, only to promptly close it again.

"You what?"

"I was just...checking."

"Checking what?"

"On Imogen, obviously." At the irritated look he offered her she informed him: "I do it all the time. When you're asleep. I just...check she's alright, that's all."

Even through the darkness, Carrie could see Teddy's face contorting into a deep scowl.

"Go back to bed!" he snapped, shifting moodily against his pillow, but Carrie ignored him. As she turned back to push the door open she heard him mutter irritably to himself as he scrambled up onto his feet, struggling not to stomp as he hurried after her.

Imogen was fast asleep, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest and duvet tucked neatly under her chin. Carrie gazed at her for a long moment, before making a beeline for the chest of drawers.

"What are you doing?" Teddy hissed as he reached the door. "Wake her up and she'll not go back to sleep, you know what she's like! Carrie!"

Carrie dropped down into a crouch, reaching to run probing fingers along the chest of drawers' elaborately carved surface.

"She opened this drawer." she whispered to Teddy, reaching to tug at the brass handles, finding it completely immovable.

"What are you talking about?" Teddy whispered back, taking a few reluctant steps into the room.

"Imogen, Ted! She opened this drawer here, I saw her do it, I swear!"

"Don't be stupid, Carrie. I've been trying to get it open on and off for months! It's stuck!"

"But Immy opened it! She did!"

"Really? And what was inside?"

"I don't know! I didn't see...she...she was just shutting it..."

"And did you ask her?"

"Yes!"  
>"What did she say?"<p>

"She said she hadn't opened it, but..."

"Well then! For goodness sake, Carrie! You're imagining things! Go to bed for Merlin's sake! You're being delusional! I have to be up for work..."

"I didn't ask you to follow me in here." Carrie muttered, giving the drawers another yank, narrowly avoiding unbalancing herself.

Teddy very nearly bit through his tongue in his efforts to keep his voice down.

"Fine!" he snapped, hair reddening in fury. "Just...just don't wake her up!"

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed back to the sitting room.

He left without speaking a single word to her the following morning.

Carrie, however, refused to give up.

"Dora?" she asked the moment she arrived in Remus and Dora's kitchen some half an hour after Teddy's wordless departure from the flat. "What do you know about...about dark magic?"

Dora Lupin looked up from the stack of paperwork she was examining, spoonful of cornflakes midway to her mouth in order to offer her daughter-in-law a raised eyebrow.

"What does the Deputy Head of the Auror Department know about dark magic?" she repeated, as if it were quite possibly the most stupid question that anybody had ever asked her, and then she laughed and suggested: "D'you fancy being a bit more specific, Carrie love?"

Carrie gave a rather nervous little chuckle, her face warming in embarrassment.

"That was a stupid question, I know..." she mumbled, dropping down into the seat opposite the Auror who, having shovelled a generous mouthful of cornflakes into her mouth, leant to pick up the steaming teapot from the table.

"Tea?" Dora offered, pouring two cups without waiting for an answer, and Carrie reached to wrap her hands around a cup. It did nothing to calm her nerves.

She didn't want to say something wrong, after all. She had upset Teddy already and didn't want to risk doing the same to his mother.

"What sort of dark magic are we talking about, then?" Dora asked, sounding worriedly amused. Carrie was not entirely sure that she was about to be taken very seriously.

"Um..." she said, frowning deeply. Having been so determined to think things through she realised that she hadn't. Not one bit.

She decided against opening with Imogen's behaviour the night before and settled on something slightly less obvious.

"There's a...a chest of drawers...in Immy's bedroom."

"_Immy's_ bedroom?" Dora said, arching an eyebrow as she sipped her tea.  
>"Yes..." Carrie said, gazing at the witch intently.<p>

"And you reckon there's something wrong with it?"

"Maybe..."

"Dark magic, you reckon?"

"Well I just wondered..."

"Bloody hell..." Dora muttered, eyes widening in mock-alarm. "She's not like you, is she?! It's not bloody heredity, is it?! You've not passed on those awful danger-magnet genes of yours, have you?! Merlin help us!" she exclaimed, slapping a hand down upon the kitchen table and causing Carrie to sigh. "Just when I thought _you'd_ grown out of it, too!"

"_Dora_...!"

At Carrie's indigence, the Auror rolled her eyes, but consented to suggesting:

"Tell me about this evil chest of drawers, then."

"Well," Carrie began, a little reassured when Dora reached to close the paper file she had been examining, leaning back in her chair and offering the muggle her full attention. "We got it along with all the other furniture, from that second-hand place your mum found advertised in the Prophet. It's this big, dark, carved set of drawers with brass handles..."

"I know the one." Dora recalled, nodding at the memory.

"Yes, and we can't get the drawers to open, Teddy's tried everything he can think of!"

"Well there's nothing too odd about that, love. I know it looks a bit creepy, as furniture for a child's bedroom goes, but if somebody truly wanted to seal it shut and stop you from getting in, there are so many different ways of doing that, it's no surprise Ted hasn't broken in yet..."

"But Imogen has!" Carrie exclaimed, fidgeting a little in her seat. "She opened it, I saw her! Ted says I must have imagined it, but I'm sure I didn't! I saw her pushing it shut as I opened the door! There's something strange about it, Dora! There really is!"

Dora busied herself with the remainder of her bowl of cornflakes for a long moment, chewing rather thoughtfully, before swallowing and admitting:

"That's very interesting, but at the same time that doesn't scream dark magic to me. Just...magic in general."

Carrie forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.  
>"I...I know that," she mumbled, pausing to take a sip of her tea in an attempt to steady her nerves. "But...but I saw her open it a while ago and...and ever since then Immy's been acting awfully strangely..." Dora's questioning look almost made the muggle squirm. "She's...she's awfully clinging to Remus, for starters..." In an instant Dora's expression began to grow disbelieving, and Carrie found herself babbling: "I know what you'll say, you'll say the same as Ted did, that she's frightened that he's sick! I...I know that but...but that's not all! That's not all, she...she doesn't listen to me when I tell her not to try and help him drink! She makes him choke! She does it all the time, Dora, no matter how many times I tell her off! And...and then there was last night after dinner! What on earth was she doing to him?! It's all strange and it's all since...since I saw her open that chest of drawers!"<p>

There was a very long pause. Carrie very nearly held her breath in anticipation as Dora pursed her lips together...

The Auror sighed.

"Carrie love," she said softly, sounding a little pained. "I know...looking after a child is difficult. Especially in situations like this. Immy can't possibly understand fully what is happening...she can't possibly imagine a day when she might wake up and...and not have her grandad there...this is all very distressing for her, obviously. But you mustn't...worry too much about her behaviour. It's bound to make her play up..."

"You call last night...playing up?!"

"It's just the way things are. She's going to misbehave, throw tantrums, all sorts. That doesn't make you a bad mother, it just makes you human. You can't stop Remus being sick, after all. You don't need to try and explain it or come up with excuses or..."

"It's not an excuse! There really is something going on, I'm sure there is!"

"There's nothing evil about that chest of drawers, Carrie. Second-hand shops rarely just go around selling dark objects like that, it's highly illegal, they get their stock checked by professionals..."

"But..."

"As for what went on last night, I honestly don't think it could have been all that dreadful. Remus says he has absolutely no recollection of what happened. He probably slept right through it."

"How could he sleep through it?! Dora!"

"He was in a bad way when I got home last night. I'd pretty much drugged him up to the eyeballs by the time Immy got to him." Draining the last of her tea, Dora set her cup back down upon the table and rose to her feet, yawning widely. "Honestly, Carrie." she said, reaching to gather up her paperwork. "I'd say you were making connections with all of these things because...because you want to."

"You think I want my daughter to be...to be possessed or...or cursed or Merlin knows what?!" Carrie asked incredulously, and Dora smiled sadly and admitted:

"Of course not. But as a parent if I could choose between some sort of magical ensnarement or true, painful emotional trauma...well I reckon I'd pick the former. Magics can be banished and forgotten. But true pain, the sort Immy feels...well you can't make that disappear, can you?"

Carrie wanted to protest, but she could not seem to find her voice.

"I'm late for work." Dora observed, sounding rather apologetic, and at the downtrodden expression upon the muggle's face she offered: "Look, I'll pop over to the flat during my lunch break and take a look at the chest of drawers for you, alright?"

"Thanks..." Carrie mumbled half-heartedly, wondering when on earth Dora would find the time to do such a thing.

Carrie had barely started her usual cleaning of the kitchen when Ron arrived to help keep watch of Remus for the morning, and as she set the kettle to boil again, Carrie called:

"You're very early!"

"I know," Ron called back as he headed to join her in the kitchen. "I got up early to sort out a thing or two in the office before I came. I bumped into Ted in the Atrium, he's about to get himself into a spot of bother, looks like."

"Why's that?" Carrie asked as the red haired Auror dropped down to sit at the kitchen table.

"He's got a written assignment due in...let's see..." Ron checked his watch, frowning a little as he decided: "Half an hour. He told me he'd left it on the kitchen table back at the flat, he was about to dash back and get it before anybody knew he was missing. But then of course Isaac stepped out the floo and dragged him back down to the gymnasium...he didn't dare tell him what's happened, of course. Isaac doesn't do tardiness, you know."

Carrie felt a lump form in her throat.

"What if he doesn't hand it in before the deadline?" she asked worriedly, and Ron puffed his cheeks in consideration, before admitting:

"Well Tonks'll cap his mark for it. He'll get a bare pass, no matter how good it is."

"That's not very fair..."

"It's the rules. Tonks won't have a choice."

Carrie reached to fling the tea towel she was holding down upon the sideboard, before exclaiming:

"Well what are you doing just sitting there, then?!"

Ron offered her a raised eyebrow.

"I was getting to that." he said, sounding irritably calm. "D'you fancy popping into the floo and fetching it for me? Then I can go and hand it in for him."

"Right..." Carrie said, making a beeline for the hallway. "Um...keep an eye on Immy, she's...she's upstairs!"

She had flooed to the flat, snatched up the papers from the kitchen table and dashed back into the floo within minutes, but in the short while that she was gone Ron had disappeared from the kitchen and was nowhere to be seen.

"Ron?!" Carrie shouted, papers grasped firmly in her hand. "I've got them!"

"Bit busy a minute..." Ron called back from somewhere upstairs, and Carrie rushed to stand at the bottom of the stairs, fidgeting impatiently.

"With what?!"

"You'll have to give me five minutes or something, Remus just...oh Merlin...you go, Carrie!"

"What?!"

"I can't leave him a minute, he's just fallen in the bathroom and...just go!"  
>"Me?!"<p>

"Yes! Take the floo, go to the Visitors' Desk and ask to see Ted! Make sure you hand them over to him personally, else he might not get them in time! Headquarters is on Level Two, Ted'll be in the gymnasium at the far end of the corridor to the left, or in the men's locker room, which is second door on the right!"

"Right..." Carrie mumbled, turning to hurry back into the sitting room. She hastily snatched up a fresh handful of floo powder, stepping carefully into the fireplace, remembering to speak clearly her destination as she threw the powder into the grate, disappearing in a roar of emerald flames.

Carrie had never been to the Ministry of Magic on her own before. The first couple of times that she had visited the highly polished marble maze of corridors and rooms she had not taken much notice of what had been going on around her because on both occasions she had been there gathering information in secret for the Order of the Phoenix, her teenaged self's nerves had shattered her ability to appreciate the grandeur of the place. Since then she had visited on a small handful of occasions, and was always struck by the magnificence of the Atrium with its vast polished floor and countless gigantic fireplaces.

Today, however, she only allowed herself a moment or two to stare around the place before heading for the Visitors' Desk, where she found a young witch with curly ginger hair and startling green eyes sat filing her nails, expression distinctly bored.

The witch glanced up at the muggle, before informing her dully:

"This is the visitors' desk. Internal inquires are dealt with over there." Too lazy to point, she gave her head a vague nod towards a second desk over by the lift.

"I am a visitor." Carrie pointed out, "I don't work here..."

"You don't have a badge." the witch said, as if to prove Carrie were in some way lying.

Carrie simply stared at her.

"I think I'd know if I was a visitor or not." she said, failing not to sound irritated in her rush.

"All visitors are provided with a badge upon their arrival at the Visitors' Entrance." the young woman behind the desk explained, and Carrie very nearly huffed.

"Well I didn't come that way, I came via the floo network."

"Via whose connection?"

"I came from Dora Lupin's house."

"The Deputy Head of Aurors?"

"That's right."

At this news, the young receptionist seemed to perk up a little and she leant rather eagerly forward in her chair.

"Really?" she said, eyes growing a little wide. "D'you know her, then?"

Carrie wanted to snap and point out that since she had just come from Dora's house the chances of the two of them not being acquainted in one form or another seemed ridiculously slim indeed, but she managed to bite her tongue.

"I'm her daughter-in-law."

The witch's startlingly green eyes grew to the size of snitches.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, fidgeting in her swivel chair, the movement instantly getting on Carrie's nerves. "That must be amazing!"

Carrie supposed that, had she still been the age of the witch sat in front of her, who looked to be barely old enough to have recently graduated from Hogwarts, she too would have thought being Dora's daughter-in-law was amazing. After all, she'd been longing to be part of the Lupin family pretty much from day one...

But said aloud...

...well it just sounded stupid. And annoying.

The witch was busy snatching up a piece of pink memo paper, her expression unfathomably eager.

"You couldn't do me the most massive favour, could you?" she asked, grinning excitedly.

"Um..." Carrie said, only to find the piece of paper being thrust under her nose.

"When you see her, could you ask her to sign this for me?"

Carrie blinked at the paper, rather over-whelmed.

"You...you want Dora's autograph?"

"Yes! My name's Tiffany, tell her! Tiffany Hubble!"

"Er...right..."

"Then she can just send it back to me, you know, 'cause it's memo paper!"

Carrie reluctantly accepted the paper, forcing a smile onto her face as the witch did a sort of excited half-dance in her seat, clapping her hands together.

"This is so amazing!" she exclaimed, voice growing rather high-pitched in her excitement. "I'm trying to get the whole set, look!" Reaching to snap up a small blue leather bound book upon the desk beside her she opened it and held it proudly up for Carrie's inspection. Five sheets of pink memo paper, each one signed by a member of Britain's National Duelling Team had been carefully pasted onto a double page, a single space left in the middle, which Tiffany prodded eagerly with a finger. "She's the only one I haven't got yet!" she explained to Carrie, blushing a little as she admitted: "My boss says I'm not to pester them whilst they're working. He said it was inappropriate, chasing Albert Diggory into the lift the way I did last week, I mean. Now I'm not allowed to talk to any of them unless they talk to me first, else I'll get in trouble."

Carrie was pretty sure that this young witch was insane. The muggle hastily pocketed the paper and said:

"Well I'll um...I'll ask for you, when I see her...anyway, I'm in a bit of a rush..."

"Oh!" Tiffany exclaimed, hastily shutting the book and dropping it back down onto the desk. "Right, yes! Of course!" she leant back in her chair, expression suddenly sober, and then she informed the muggle: "You do realise that it is against security regulations for visitors to arrive via the floo and not the visitors' entrance, don't you?"

"No..."

"Oh. Well it is."

Carrie had to take a deep breath.

"Do you know Ron Weasley?" she asked, trying her best to be patient. "He's third in command at Auror Headquarters...?"

"Ron Weasley? Yep, I know who he is..."

"Right, well he told me to use the floo. I'm a muggle, you see, I can't apparate to the visitors' entrance. And I really am in a bit of a hurry."

Tiffany puffed her cheeks in deliberation before reaching to snatch up a fresh sheet of parchment.

"What's your name, please?" she asked as she reached for her quill.

"Caroline Lupin."

"Ca-ro-line Lu-pin..." the witch repeated as she scrawled the name down upon the parchment. "And the purpose of your visit?"

"I'm here to see my husband."  
>"And his name is?"<p>

"Theodore Lupin."

"Right. What department does he work for?"

"Auror Headquarters. He's a final year Auror cadet."

Lips pursed together in concentration, Tiffany Hubble scrawled the rest of this information down upon the parchment, before adding an enormously loopy signature at the bottom of the page.

"Hand this over to security over there," she said, reaching to hold the parchment out for Carrie to take. "Tell 'em Ron Weasley sent you, they ought let you into the lift! They're like that, the Aurors you know. Trusted, I mean."

"Thank you." Carrie said, hastily accepting the paper, and with that she turned and hurried towards the lift.

"Ron Weasley sent me." she announced without a greeting as she slapped the paper down upon the security wizard's desk, and as he reached to examine the paper the middle aged, balding wizard behind the desk muttered disinterestedly:

"Did he now?" He examined Tiffany's scrawled writing for a long moment before dropping the paper back down onto the desk with a sigh.

"Mrs. Lupin," he said, leaning back in his chair so that he could fix the muggle with a distinctly irritated look. "This is the Ministry of Magic, not a coffee shop."

"Excuse me?"

"We are not in the practice of allowing spouses in and out of the premises for social calls! Auror cadets are here for intensive training! I suggest if you want to speak to your husband you send him an owl."

Carrie was pretty sure that she had never come across such a rude man in all her life.

"It's not just a social call!" she protested furiously. "It's very important!"

"That's not what it says here."

"Well the receptionist over there didn't ask why I was visiting!"

"And why are you visiting, Mrs. Lupin?"

Carrie opened her mouth to snap at him, only to find her anger had rendered her somewhat tongue-tied.

"Oh Fletcher!" a familiar voice from Carrie's left exclaimed dramatically. "Just shut up and let her past, for Merlin's sake!"

Carrie turned to see the wet, bedraggled figure of Jasmine Wickes striding towards the lift, seemingly fresh back from a raid of some sort, an equally muddied Harry Potter just behind her.

"Call yourself a bloody Auror with an attitude like that?!" the security wizard snapped, frowning deeply at the trail of mud the pair were leaving upon the marble floor, only for Harry to call:

"She's with me, Raymond, it's fine."

Raymond Fletcher gave a huff, but nevertheless agreed:

"Right you are, Mr. Potter."

Jasmine grinned.

"You might want to give Magical maintenance a shout!" she suggested, gesturing to the mess upon the floor, and as Carrie hurried gratefully after the two Aurors into the lift, she heard Fletcher grunt:

"Bloody Aurors..."

"Hi Carrie!" Jasmine greeted as the trio shuffled into the lift, and Carrie murmured:

"Morning."

"Is it?" Jasmine wondered, yawning widely. "I hadn't noticed."

"How're things?" Harry asked as the lift door slid shut and they began to move with a slight jolt.

"Same as usual." Carrie lied, and Harry sighed, reaching to sweep the messy hair back from his face, expression grim.

"What're you doing here, then?" Jasmine wondered, and Carrie felt somewhat compelled to hide the papers she was holding behind her, leaning back against a wall.

"Just...popped in to talk to Ted about something."

"You're sure things are fine?" Harry asked instantly, and Carrie nodded her head vigorously.

"Definitely." she assured him. "Ron's...keeping an eye on things."

"Oh yes..." Harry said, looking rather relieved. "Good, that's...that's good."

Jasmine's gaze upon Harry grew somewhat accusing.

"You know!" she said, eyes growing suddenly wife. "You do, don't you?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jas."

"Yes you do! You and Ron both know, don't you?!"

"No idea what you mean..."

"About Tonks! There's something wrong with her! We've all been trying to figure it out for weeks and you and Ron know all about it! That's what you're talking about, isn't it?!"

As the lift came to a jolted halt, Harry's expression remained impressively unchanged.

"Nope," he said as the doors slid open. "Like I said, Jasmine, I have no idea what you're talking about." And with that he offered Carrie a smile and told her: "Tell Remus I said hi, won't you?"

Carrie shuffled out of the lift behind the two of them, pausing to watch them stride up the corridor, turning left into the Aurors' office, Jasmine still muttering irritated protests at the Head of Aurors' back.

Carrie set off up the corridor, past the office door and up towards the gymnasium. She paused beside the door to the mens' locker room, pausing to glance inside just as a distinctly female voice from within announced:

"That was very impressive, you know."

Brooke Farrington, her pale blonde hair today scraped back from her face in a long ponytail, took a few steps further into the room, where Teddy was busy rearranging the contents of his locker.

"Thanks..." Teddy murmured, reaching to push the locker door firmly shut, and as he turned round he found Brooke stood just behind him.

"I've never been that great at those sorts of hexes." she admitted, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "They're just...tricky!"

"Mm...they are a bit." Teddy agreed, frowning deeply, and then he pointed out "You know, Brooke...this is...this is the _mens'_ locker room..."

Brooke giggled.

"Oh it's alright!" she exclaimed, reaching to pat him reassuringly upon the arm. "It's not like you're undressed now, is it?"

"Well no, but if the Deputy catches you in here you'll be disciplined..."

"I wouldn't worry about Tonks finding out." Brooke said, arching an eyebrow. "How could she? _She's_ not allowed in here either!"

"Ha..." Teddy mumbled, looking distinctly uncomfortable as she took yet another step forward, leaving precious space between the two of them.

"Anyway," Brooke said, fiddling again with that elusive strand of hair. "We need to talk!"

"We do?"

"Yes! Because I was talking to Jenny, and she's been talking to Ben and he says you're in an awful mood this morning!"

"And?"

"And! I thought you might want to tell me what's wrong!"

"Oh...no. No thanks..."

"Because you can talk to me, you know."

"That's um...that's very sweet, Brooke, but..." Teddy trailed off abruptly when the young witch reached abruptly forward to grasp hold of him by the hand.

"I'm here for you, Ted." she informed him rather breathily, and Carrie felt as if a lead weight had just been dropped upon her chest. "Because you know, we need to stick together, you and me..."

Teddy had backed off a little, pulling his hand free and as his back collided with the lockers, Brooke simply took a step after him.

"It's great, isn't it?" Teddy mumbled rather uncertainly. "All of us here, I mean...how...how everybody looks out for one ano..._what are you doing_?!"

Carrie watched him hurriedly reach to clamp his hands down atop of Brooke's to halt their slow progression sliding around his waist.

Brooke sniggered.

"What d'you think I'm doing?" she asked, eyes fluttering suggestively. "You look like you need cheering up!"

"I really don't."

"Really?" Brooke said disbelievingly, leaning forward until she had her victim sandwiched up against the lockers, and Carrie saw Teddy swallow as the blonde asked: "Are you _sure_?"

For a moment, Teddy simply stared at her, his voice seemingly lost in his shock.

"Brooke..." he managed at last, attempting to pull his hands free when she managed to grab hold of his wrists, coaxing them reluctantly towards her waist. "I'm married. You...you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know." Brooke said, sounding entirely unconcerned, and Teddy seemed taken aback by her dismissive tone for he was entirely unprepared when the witch lurched abruptly forward...

Carrie felt her blood run ice cold.

She wanted to do something, burst through the door and say something, stop the sudden stranglehold the horrible little snake had around Teddy's neck, stop those dreadful pink lipsticked lips dragging themselves all over her husband's mouth and yet...

She felt utterly frozen, as if the blood in her veins had solidified and she waited desperately for Teddy to do something, put a stop to it...

She felt instantly faint when such a thing did not happen instantly. Indeed for a moment Teddy too froze, screwing his eyes shut, and it was not until half a second later when Brooke's grip upon him lessened in order for a thumb upon his chin to reach to attempt to prise his mouth open that he was seemingly jolted into action.

He grabbed hold of the offending hand, reaching to brace his other hand against Brooke's shoulder and in an instant had given her a firm push backwards, causing the witch to very nearly trip over the bench behind her. Brooke had barely regained her balance by the time he was halfway to the door, and as Carrie simply stared, her heart slamming repeatedly against her ribcage as a vague sense of relief began to seep over her, Brooke called:

"Ted, wait!"

Teddy turned to offer her an utterly murderous look, pointing a finger at her as he insisted:

"You stay _well _away from me, d'you understand? Well, _well_ away!"

"Don't be so over sensitive!" Brooke told him, sounding rather offended by his rejection, and then she smirked and told him: "I bet it was the best snog you've had in ages!"

Teddy looked so utterly appalled that he turned and stalked out of the room without another word...

He very nearly walked straight into his wife, who in her daze had not thought to move.

The two of them stared at one another in shocked silence for a long moment, both attempting to think of something to say...

Defeated, Carrie held up the papers in her hand. He stared at them numbly for a moment, before reaching forward to take them.

"Thanks Sweetheart..." he mumbled uncertainly.

Carrie wanted to tell him that she wasn't angry with him. Except she wasn't really sure. It was as if what she had seen had not quite been processed in her mind yet, as if she hadn't quite calculated how fast his reactions had to be before she decided that he was in absolutely no way to blame for what was going on...

Was something going on? Or had Brooke literally just pounced on him out of nowhere? Surely not, surely even nasty little snakes like Brooke Farrington didn't just pounce on people just like that...

Except that was stupid. Because obviously it wasn't like that at all. Because it was Teddy. Teddy wasn't like that, obviously...

Merlin...her mind was so muddled...

Teddy looked like he wanted to say something, but had no idea what that something was. He was just sucking in a deep breath to say something, anything, when the shrill blast of a whistle sounded from up the corridor in the gymnasium, making the two of them jump.

"LOOK SHARP, RABBLE!" Dora's voice called, and a couple of female cadets came rushing out of the womens' locker room, followed by Brooke, who pushed her way past Teddy, not so much as glancing at the couple stood by the doorway.

"Carrie..." Teddy began, but Carrie insisted:

"Go. Go on..."

Teddy's expression grew increasingly agitated as he reached to usher her up the corridor beside him.

"I...we'll...we'll talk. When I get home, alright? We'll...we'll go for a walk and...and talk..."

"Alright then." Carrie agreed as they came to a halt just before the gymnasium door, and as he hesitated worriedly, she felt compelled to tell him: "I love you."

He shot her a relieved smile and Carrie found herself feeling a little better.

"And I love you." he told her, lips twitching towards a smile, and with that he turned and hurried into the gymnasium, just as Dora called:

"Alright, alright! This is Auror Training, not a bloody coffee morning! Stop with the gossiping and line up all of you! Let's get back to work! What's this, Ted?"

Carrie took a few steps forward so that she could peer into the room, and as the cadets obediently lined themselves up against the back wall of the gymnasium, Teddy had hurried to the front, holding the papers out for his mother's inspection.

"It's my assignment."

"It's late."

"It's not."

"It's due by half past."

"It's currently twenty eight minutes past."

Dora examined the watch upon her wrist with a deep frown, before consenting to snatching the papers from him, informing him:

"You're exceptionally lucky! And _stupid_. Go and line up with everybody else."

Teddy let out a visible sigh of relief, and as she went to drop the papers down in a small box set upon a bench behind her, Carrie was pretty sure she caught Dora let out a sigh of relief herself.

Teddy planted himself at the very opposite end of the line to Brooke Farrington, who appeared to be rather preoccupied with examining a possible chip in the bright red nail polish upon her fingernails as Dora turned back to the assembled cadets and announced:

"I need a volunteer!" One short glance up and down the line convinced her to decide: "And Brooke has very kindly decided to step forward! Because naturally she'd _hate_ for me to think that she finds the state of her nails more interesting than what I'm about to demonstrate! Isn't that right, Brooke?"

Brooke gave a little jump, brushing her hands hastily upon the front of her skinny jeans as if attempting to destroy some sort of evidence.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, bounding enthusiastically forward, and Dora turned her attention briefly to the faded old blackboard that had been set against the wall behind her, snatching up a stick of chalk.

"The Stanislavian Dip," the Deputy Head of Aurors announced, scrawling both the title and a series of strange curved lines upon the blackboard, "is the duelling technique that you shall seek to defend yourselves from this morning! As you all know, because Isaac specifically told you to look it up after demonstrating it to you yesterday, the Stanislavian Dip was invented by..._Greg_?"

"Erm..." the chosen cadet mumbled, frowning deeply.

"You don't know." Dora observed, and Greg shrugged and asked:

"Does it even matter who invented it, Tonks?"

"No, not in the slightest." Dora said, folding her arms across her chest. "But you can tell me anyway."

"Why?"

"Because I've forgotten."

"Stanislav Delrinov." the cadet at Greg's side provided as Greg frowned deeply, and Dora grinned and agreed:

"Exactly, Ben! Stanislav Delirinov. He invented it some time in the late eighteen hundreds. Which is probably a lie, he was just the first person to stick a label on it. Now! Wand out, Brooke!"

As Brooke fumbled around in search of her wand, Dora turned back to tap her own wand at the blackboard. "As you can see here," she said, and Carrie was pretty certain that personally she couldn't see anything from the strange mixture of lines, "the aim of this technique is to dip your wand downwards, leaving the resulting flick to send spells flying at an upwards angle, making them significantly more difficult to deflect in a precise manner! Not only is your opponent less likely to deflect your spell directly back at you, should you strike your opponent you are likely to launch them upwards as well as backwards with the force of your strike!"

At this news, a look of slight panic crossed Brooke's face as Dora turned back to her, taking a few steps forward.

"Be aware of the angle of the spell heading towards you and aim your shielding charm accordingly!" Dora instructed, and suddenly she lunged forward, bent low as she thrust her wand forward towards the ground, flicking it upwards at the last moment...

Brooke had barely raised her wand before the burst of purple light from Dora's wand struck her square in the chest, launching her backwards off her feet and up into the air with a shriek.

Carrie couldn't help but feel quite satisfied to watch the young witch slam into the back wall, which she promptly slid down, leaving her to crumple into a heap upon the floor.

"That's _not _how you do it." Dora informed the rest of the cadets, who had scattered in their attempts not to have Brooke land atop them, and Carrie felt rather smug when the Deputy Head of Aurors only gave Brooke's groaning figure a disapproving glance before she called: "Who's next?"


	15. Underlying Issues

_Note: An update for **Trixie**, because she pestered me and because I'm going away on holiday tomorrow morning for a few days and won't be able to post! I've not gotten as far as I had intended, but it'll do for the time being!_

_I've finally managed to add cover pictures for all of the Meet the... 'fics! For anybody who cares, the cover for this one is a rather inept drawing of Dora and Valbona Luga in their respective country's duelling robes! This chapter was supposed to contain the second round of the contest, but I'm afraid that will have to happen next time instead! Thank you to everybody who reviewed the last chapter, I was surprised to hear from so many of you, I'd thought the readership of these stories had started to tail off a bit by now...maybe not! :-) _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**14: Underlying Issues**

That evening Carrie was not sure whose return from work would make her more anxious; Teddy's or Dora's.

Dora arrived home unconventionally early, mud-splattered and bordering on unresponsive.

"Hi Dora." Carrie had greeted when the Auror had shuffled into the kitchen, leather satchel trailing along upon the floor behind her.

"Hi."

"Good day?"

"Hm."

"You're covered in mud."

"Mm."

"Why?"

A shrug.

"I'm making shepherd's pie."

A twitch of the lips.

Carrie felt rather as if attempting proper conversation at this point was entirely futile, but she ploughed on regardless, settling on the most shocking revelation she could muster in an attempt to provoke more than a single syllable in response.

"I came to Auror Headquarters this morning." she informed Dora as the witch dumped her bag down beside the kitchen table and went to the fridge, snatching up a carton of orange juice. "I um...I was looking for Teddy."

Dora unscrewed the top of the container, tossing it onto the countertop before raising the carton to her lips, gulping down juice as if her life depended upon it.

"I saw him with Brooke Farrington." Carrie went on, folding her arms firmly across her chest, ready to feel massively satisfied by her mother-in-law's impending rage. "She cornered him in the men's locker room and tried to stick her tongue down his throat!"

Dora choked.

It took her near on a minute to stop spluttering, reaching to slam the carton down upon the countertop, free hand reaching to grasp hold of the fridge door as she bent forward, coughing.

Carrie didn't feel particularly bad. She knew she ought do, but she couldn't quite manage it. Part of her wanted to laugh, or smirk or both.

Once recovered at last, Dora reached to rake a hand through her hair and muttered:

"Merlin...! That girl!"

Carrie waited for her to say something suitably damning, something a bit more than just _That Girl_. But she didn't. Instead, Dora busied herself with putting the carton back in the fridge.

"Well?!" Carrie said, not quite able to stop herself.

"Well what, Carrie?" Dora asked, pausing to peer around at the rest of the fridge's contents.

Carrie didn't really know what.

"Aren't you going to...to say something?!" she demanded, and Dora frowned at a slab of cheddar cheese and consented to murmur:

"Oh, right..." Straightening up, the witch closed the fridge and turned to face the muggle, before offering: "I shouldn't worry about it, if I were you."

"Is that it?" Carrie asked, feeling rather disappointed. "Is that all you've got to say?"

"Would you like me to say something else?" Dora asked, sounding a little miffed.

Carrie opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She felt irritated that Dora wasn't as utterly furious as she had expected...

"Has it happened before?!" she demanded to know, and Dora looked somewhat bewildered.

"Not as far as I know."

"It's just...you don't seem very...well...you know..."

"Angry?"

"Exactly."

Dora gave another shrug.

"Quite frankly, love," she said, going to retrieve her bag from the floor, "I don't think I've got the energy to be angry. Or even very surprised, now I think about it. If I were you I should just count yourself lucky you're not Emily Spinnet."

"Who's Emily Spinnet?" Carrie asked, failing not to sound annoyed, and she felt her stomach twist uncomfortably when Dora reached to sling the bag over her shoulder, recalling lightly:

"She's Freddie Wicke's ex-girlfriend. She caught him and Brooke in the maintenance cupboard on floor two, trousers round his ankles...Brooke on her knees..."

"What?!"

"I know. I tell you what though, I'd rather be Emily than Freddie. He's Jasmine's baby cousin, she escorted him to Mungo's...reckons he'll be lucky to ever have children..."

"Why haven't you kicked that bloody little slut off training?!" Carrie cried, utterly appalled, and Dora gave another infuriating shrug.

"I can't just sack people whenever I feel like it." she pointed out, sounding bordering on tired of the whole conversation.

"Why not?!"

"They'd all go crying to the Wizengamot about unfair dismissal and I'd get in trouble."

"But she's a slut!"

"That's not a crime."

"Yes it is! You used to threaten to sack Jasmine if you ever caught her and Isaac shagging on the rug in your office!"

Dora looked mildly irritated, as if she could not quite be bothered to feel any particularly strong emotion at all.

"How do you know that?" she asked rather as if she didn't actually care, and Carrie opened her mouth to tell her she Jasmine had told her years ago when they had been plotting against the Dousers, but then she remembered that mentioning that period of time was strictly taboo.

"Can't you at least...give her a dressing down or something?!" she demanded instead, and Dora puffed her cheeks in consideration.

"Harry gave her a formal warning over the incident with Freddie." she explained warily. "If she gets a second one...that'll probably be her gone."

"Exactly!"

"I don't want her gone."

Carrie felt utterly betrayed. And confused.

"Why not?!" she exclaimed, feeling her face reddening. "You said yourself she'd make a crap Auror!"

"And if I'm right she'll fail her examinations and I'll not qualify her. It'd be better losing her that way, trust me."

Carrie felt almost as unspeakably furious then as she had done that morning peering into the locker room, once the initial shock had dulled.

"How is that better?!" she cried, and Dora sighed heavily as she headed for the hall.

"Let her fall on her own sword, Carrie." she insisted wearily. "Don't badger me into pushing her. You'll make _me_ look bad, you'll make _Ted_ look bad, and you'll make _yourself_ look bad." And with that, Dora disappeared off towards the sitting room.

Carrie didn't quite know what she meant, indeed she was much too angry to attempt to figure it out.

"I don't care!" she found herself exclaiming, and to her surprise Dora snapped:

"Give it a bloody rest, Carrie! I'm not interested!"

The words stung.

"You're never interested in anything I have to say anymore!" Carrie cried, stomping her way down the hallway after the witch. "Like Imogen, for example! I bet...I bet you didn't even go and look at that cabinet like you said!"

She came to an abrupt halt in the doorway to find Dora had flung herself down upon the sofa, hugging the leather satchel to her chest, expression bleak. Carrie instantly regretted opening her mouth.

"Bad...bad day?" she wondered quietly after a sizeable pause, and Dora hung her head.

"Probably a little worse than yours." the witch admitted, and Carrie mumbled:

"Sorry..."

"So am I." the witch muttered, reaching to pull the bag open so that she could retrieve an envelope. She stared down at it, lips pursed tightly together for a long moment before sighing heavily and holding it out for Carrie to take. "Do me favour won't you?" she requested dully. "Take this up to Remus for me. I can't quite face the shame of it right now."

"What is it?" Carrie wondered, but Dora merely shook her head.

Carrie felt rather as if she ought apologise again for aggravating her, but instead she shuffled forward to retrieve the envelope and headed upstairs. She found Imogen sat at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom, barefoot and engrossed in a conversation with the two sock-turned-puppets that she had slipped over each of her hands. They appeared to be discussing the possibility of a dragon hiding under Grandad's bed and barely seemed to notice Carrie slipping past them to perch upon the bed at Remus' side. At the new weight upon the mattress, Remus stirred, his eyes slowly opening and after offering the groggy werewolf a small smile, Carrie held out the envelope for him to take.

"Special delivery." the muggle murmured as he accepted it wordlessly, squinting down at the elaborate writing upon the envelope's front.

The letter was, Carrie noted as she shifted forward a little to look down at it, addressed to Dora at the Ministry, and as Remus turned to examine the seal upon the back that Dora had already broken open the werewolf observed the unusual plum-coloured sealing wax with a look of instant foreboding.

"For the love of Merlin," Remus muttered wearily. "Not now..."

"What is it?" Carrie asked anxiously as he reached to slip the enclosed sheet of neatly folded parchment free from the envelope, and Remus explained:

"It's from the Wizengamot."

"What do they want?"

As he unfolded the letter, Remus eyed the elaborate logo heading the page before admitting:

"There are most likely only two reasons the Wizengamot would send Dora a letter like this."

"And what are those?" Carrie asked as the werewolf shifted back against his pillows, frowning deeply.

"Number One: They plan on awarding her an Order of Merlin."

"I don't think it's that." Carrie mumbled apprehensively.

"Number Two," Remus recalled, his grip upon the parchment tightening a little as his gaze upon it narrowed. "She's made them angry and they intend to punish her."

"I think it might be that." Carrie admitted glumly, recalling Dora slumped upon the sofa downstairs.

Merlin, the muggle thought, she wished she hadn't gotten angry, or even mentioned Brooke Farrington at all. It all seemed a bit pointless and insignificant, the more she thought about it...

She wondered precisely what it was that Dora had done wrong...

She watched apprehensively as Remus' eyes darted back and forth as he read the letter, until quite suddenly his eyes closed and he drew in a deep breath...

"Dora!" he called, eyes still shut, and there was a sizeable pause before Dora's voice drifted up the stairs.

"Yes?!"

Carrie thought for a moment he was about to call back and scold the witch for whatever it was that she had done, but he seemed to stop himself, instead asking:

"Why?!"

There came soft footsteps upon the stairs and Dora appeared upon the landing a moment later, peering rather shyly into the room.

"I don't know..." the witch mumbled at last. "Time just...ran away with me, I suppose..."

"How many people were meant to be on trial this afternoon?" Remus asked, and his wife hung her head shamefully and mumbled:

"F...five, I think...might've been six..."

"What's your excuse going to be? When they call a disciplinary hearing?"

Dora sighed heavily, shoulders slumped.

"I'll blame Ted and Carrie." she decided, much to Carrie's bemusement. "For not keeping the clock in Imogen's bedroom wound up." And then she shrugged and admitted: "I don't have an excuse, Remus. I'm just incompetent."

Remus abandoned the letter upon his lap with a sigh of his own.

"Ah well," the werewolf murmured wearily as Carrie reached to pick up the letter. "Never mind, darling. These things can't be helped."

"What are we going to do?" Dora wondered, and Remus simply mumbled:

"I have no idea."

_Dear Mrs Lupin_, Carrie read as she peered down at the elaborate script. _I am writing to you on behalf of the Wizengamot in order to inform you that, as Deputy Head of the Auror Department and employee of the Ministry of Magic, you are hereby summoned to attend a disciplinary hearing tomorrow afternoon at 2pm, at which time your recent misconduct will be discussed and disciplinary actions dispensed accordingly. This hearing has been requested by a number of esteemed members of the Wizengamot, who have defined your misconduct in the eyes of the Ministry as follows: _

_That you disrupted the schedule of the court by failing to attend a hearing at 1pm this afternoon; despite receiving summons to give evidence regarding your arrest of the defendants a week in advance. _

_That your extreme tardiness, for which you gave no prior warning or explanation of, has forced a rescheduling of the trial, leaving the defendants in the custody of the Ministry for an unnecessary period of time. _

_That not only did you fail to attend the hearing, you were in actual fact absent from the Ministry without due cause for over an hour longer than your designated lunch hour._

_That your colleague Mr. Potter was forced to cancel an Auror Department raid due to take place this afternoon, owing to his need to attempt to locate you before the hearing's cancellation, a search that proved entirely fruitless because you gave no care to inform any member of the Auror Department of your intended whereabouts and your reasons for going there._

_That your conduct has constituted a poor example to all those under your supervision in the Auror Department, which in turn the Wizengamot deems a shun of your responsibilities as Deputy Head of said department. _

_As consequence of your misconduct I am required to inform you that should the Wizengamot's intended disciplinary actions be upheld at your hearing, you will be required to pay a fine to cover the Ministry's costs of the defendants' stay in Azkaban. The incident will be recorded as part of your permanent Ministry record. _

It seemed to Carrie to sound rather on the extreme side, as reactions went. After all, Dora disappeared from work unexpectedly all the time and nobody seemed to notice or care...

Harry didn't care. Kingsley didn't care. The Aurors didn't care...

But the Wizengamot...

Carrie felt a lump form in her throat.

"What were you doing?" Remus wondered as Dora reached to rake a hand through her hair, and the witch sighed and told him:

"I was round at Ted and Carrie's...doing a favour..."

Carrie wanted to groan. She felt instantly wretched.

"I've let you down." Dora complained, reaching to bury her face in her hands, and Remus corrected:

"You've let the _Ministry_ down. If you want to practice your grovelling for tomorrow you'll do well to remember that..."

"I don't give a toss about the Ministry!" Dora interrupted, sounding abruptly venomous, and Remus admitted:

"That isn't going to help. For starters you need to at least pretend that you give a toss about the Ministry, that you respect the Wizengamot..."

"The Wizengamot are a bloody joke! Look at the mess they've made over the years – look at the bloody wars and all the corruption they just sit back and...and watch! Maybe if they did their job properly I'd be more inclined to do mine..."

"Dora..."

"...who the bloody hell do they think they are?! Fining me for...for a...for one little slip up!"

"You've been slipping up all week, darling. They're sick of it."

"Yeah? Well I'm sick of _them_. I'm...I'm sick of the bloody Wizengamot! I'm sick of the Ministry! Of my job! Of...of bloody _life_!"

"I know, darling."

"I'm sick of...of being such a bloody failure!"

"You're not a failure, Dora. You're human. There's a difference. I should know, believe me..."

"Bloody hell..." Dora muttered dejectedly, only to suddenly pale when her eyes came to rest upon Imogen sat upon the floor, staring up at her grandmother with wide eyes. "Oh, Sweetheart!" the witch exclaimed, instantly mortified that the child had witnessed the whole exchange. "C...come...come here, love, come...come and give Nana a cuddle!"

"A slap on the wrists, more like," Remus observed as Imogen obediently stumbled to her feet, looking a little dazed, "spouting filth like that!"

As she went to scoop the child up into her arms, hugging her tightly, Dora looked utterly ashamed.

"Grandad's right, Sweetheart. We shouldn't say nasty words like that. Especially Nanas. Nanas are much too old to be allowed to get away with saying words like that. They ought know better."

"It's _vul-gaar_." Imogen informed her grandmother seriously, face contorting in revulsion, and Dora looked bordering on embarrassed by the child's description of her chosen language.

"Yes, Imogen." she nevertheless agreed. "It is. You'll never get far in life with language like that. I certainly haven't, anyway..."

"Is that why the Wizz-gamot are angry with you, Nana?" Imogen asked, frowning deeply, and Dora pursed her lips together in consideration for a moment, before deciding:

"Yes. That's exactly why they are angry, Sweetheart." At Remus' raised eyebrow she offered him one in return and decided: "Bad language comes from a bad attitude, Imogen. And the Wizengamot think my attitude stinks."

"Perhaps you might prove them wrong tomorrow morning." Remus suggested as Dora dropped a kiss to Imogen's forehead, before setting her back down upon her feet. "Score well in the second round of the tournament and you might put them all in a good mood!"

Dora let out a humourless little chuckle.

"Maybe." she agreed half-heartedly.

Carrie had almost forgotten about the second round of the duelling tournament, Britain's appearance in which was scheduled for the following morning. But she pushed aside this fresh topic of conversation to bring up the one thing that she had been waiting to discuss ever since Dora had left for work that morning.

"Did you take a look at the cabinet, then?" she asked Dora, even though she knew that the answer was yes.

The look Dora offered her suggested the Auror thought this a rather dim question, but now aware of Imogen's presence she seemed inclined not to be rude enough to point this out.

"I did."

"And?"

"I opened it."

"You did?!"

"Eventually. Took me over an hour."

From the sounds of it, Carrie thought Dora really meant: _over a bloody hour!_

"What was inside?" the muggle asked, feeling apprehensive, only for the Auror to shrug and admit:

"Not a whole lot. Just a couple of empty bottles, nothing else." At the distinctly disappointed expression that materialised upon Carrie's face, Dora rolled her eyes and informed her: "Not a trace of dark magic about it, either!"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"But...but it took you over an hour to open it!"

Dora went to flop down upon the bed at Remus' side, eyes drifting wearily closed.

"That doesn't make it a dark object, Carrie." she murmured sleepily. "It just makes it a powerful object that's also a pain in the backside."

Carrie was just about to open her mouth to give some sort of protest, when Remus wondered:

"Can anybody else smell burning?"

"Oh!" Carrie cried, making an instant dash for the door, just as the smoke alarm down in the kitchen let out a shrill, screeching note in warning.

Teddy arrived home just in time to find the charred remains of the shepherd's pie being scraped into the bin.

"What's that supposed to be?" he wondered, nose wrinkling a little at the sight of it, and Carrie frowned down at the blackened mess, admitting:

"Dinner."

"Oh."

"Thought we'd walk into town...grab some fish and chips instead."

"Right."

The silence that followed was distinctly awkward. Carrie dumped the empty dish into the washing up bowl and set about filling the sink in soapy water so that it could soak. As with Dora she didn't feel quite up for discussing the one thing she had been waiting most of the day to discuss, so instead she told him:

"Your mum's up on disciplinary charges. There's going to be a hearing."

Teddy sucked in a deep breath.

"Merlin," he mumbled despairingly. "That'll put a black mark on her record...it's been pretty much squeaky clean since she got re-instated after leaving Azkaban."

"They're going to fine her or something."

"How much?"

"Enough that your dad doesn't know what to do about it."

Teddy gave a dark chuckle.

"Just a couple of galleons, then." he guessed as Carrie wiped her hands dry upon a tea towel.

"Shall we get going, then?" she wondered a little reluctantly, and he looked equally as reluctant as he agreed:

"Yes, I'll um...go ask what the others fancy..."

With instructions to bring back one portion of haddock and one portion of cod, the couple set off towards Eddington High Street, habitually hand in hand, but nevertheless awkward.

Carrie wasn't really sure what needed to be said. Or if she wanted to say anything at all, and they were almost halfway to the chip shop by the time she decided to break the silence and tell Teddy so, only for him to announce:

"I think she should talk now. About what happened."

Carrie wanted to say that she wasn't sure that was a good idea, but instead she said:

"Your mum says I shouldn't worry about it."

"You told Mum?" Teddy said, sounding rather pained, and Carrie admitted:

"I tell her everything, Ted."

Teddy accepted this news, which was not particularly surprising, in silence. They paused upon a curb for a couple of cars to pass before crossing to the other side of the street.

"_Do_ you worry about it?" he asked at last, slowing their pace a little so that he could turn to peer down at her anxiously, and Carrie frowned.

"Not...not really." she decided, and he seemingly did not believe her for he asked:

"What worries you, precisely?"

"It's not you!" she told him hurriedly, reaching to grip his hand with both of her own. "It's not you, Teddy. I trust you. Obviously."

"But you don't trust Brooke." Teddy observed, and Carrie shook her head.

"Does anybody?" she asked, and he let out a soft huff of amusement. "It's not even Brooke. Not entirely. It's just...well...everything."

"Everything?"

"Well not everything...just...lots of things..." Carrie trailed off, sighing heavily before admitting: "I just don't feel...sometimes it's just like...like there are so many things to worry about. With you joining the Aurors."

"Like what?" Teddy asked, sounding a little put out, and Carrie supposed he would do, because really she was beginning to realise that her annoyance had very little to do with Brooke at all.

"Sometimes I just think it...it doesn't suit you. A job like that."

"Why not?"

"It's the people...sort of..."

Teddy's expression grew mildly offended upon his colleagues' behalves.

"People like Mum and Harry?" he asked, coming to a halt so that he could turn and eye his wife rather accusingly. "People like Ron and Isaac and Jasmine?"

"People like Brooke Farrington and...and Freddie Wickes!"

"People who have little if no chance of even qualifying and people who have already been kicked out, you mean?"

"I'm just saying!" Carrie insisted, though she wasn't even sure she knew what she meant herself. "What happened with Brooke! That would...that would never have happened in your old job! Nobody in their right mind in the Muggle Liaison Office would even dream of behaving like some of the Aurors do! Harry and your mum run a strict department, I know! But it doesn't seem to matter! They're all wild in the Auror Department, every single one of them! Take Jasmine, for example! I like her! She's lovely, she really is! But stick her in that office with the rest of them and look at her! She's up in front of the Wizengamot being told off every other week! Isaac! He's the sensible one, isn't he?! But he lets Jasmine drag him into your mum's office when she isn't around and the two of them get up to goodness knows what! And what about Burton Hayes?! The Prophet says he wanders round the Ministry swigging fire whiskey from a flask morning noon and night!"

"You shouldn't take the blindest bit of notice of what the Daily Prophet says." Teddy sighed irritably. "Look at what they say about Mum and Luga..."

"They just worry me!" Carrie exclaimed, hands dropping to her sides so that she call ball them into frustrated fists. "They're all so...so harsh! So grim! So...so flippant and careless about life! The job's dangerous, that's worrying enough! But it's like...like I won't even get to breathe a sigh of relief if you're sat behind a desk doing paperwork all day!"

"That's utterly ridiculous." Teddy informed her, folding his arms firmly across his chest, and Carrie came to an abrupt halt.

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is."

"I just...I just don't want you to...to spend all that time with these people and...and end up..._different_!"

Teddy sighed heavily, reaching to run a rather frustrated hand over his face.

"Listen, Sweetheart," he said after a rather lengthy pause, "Aurors...they're never normal. Normal people don't get very far in the Auror Department. You've got be be half-mad, half-heartless or half something or other if you're to stand a chance! It's an exciting job, but it's an ugly one all the same. Normal people haven't killed a man and gotten paid for it! Normal people don't have a woman locked away in a prison cell for life and then go home and wonder what's on the bloody Wireless that evening! It's not normal, Carrie! That's got to change people, yes! But only if a person is changeable in the first place! You can't demand I never change when it's what I am already! You train Aurors, teach them what to do and the right way to think! But that's irrelevant! Either they're already that way to start with and they qualify, or they're not like that and they fail!"

"And I admire them for it, I really do..." Carrie mumbled, gaze dropping miserably to her shoes. "But...well..."

"You don't want to be married to one."

"I never said that! I just..."

"Aurors are great, just as long as you don't have to bloody live with them."

"Teddy..."

"It's fine for me to go and risk my life to get paid, just as long as I pretend that doesn't impact on my life at all."

"Ted..."

"It doesn't matter if I get hit by the Crutiatus Curse, just as long as I pretend it's all sunshine and daisies."

"That's ridiculous, Ted."

"Well! Just bloody listen to what you're saying! You're being ridiculous! Don't be so bloody pathetic! Grow backbone, grit your teeth and let's get on with life!"

Carrie felt an odd urge to laugh. She was pretty sure she'd heard Dora snap the exact same thing to various people on more than one occasion over the years.

She'd always thought that, of the two parents, Teddy had grown up to be a lot like Remus.

Apparently she had been wrong.

"D'you know what?" Teddy said, turning on his heel and continuing to stalk on up the street. "I know what this is. I know exactly what this is! And it's got bugger all to do with the prospect of the Aurors giving me some sort of bloody personality transplant!"  
>"What is it, then?" Carrie asked, trailing after him, her arms folded firmly across her chest as she shot a scowl at his back, only for her stomach to lurch uncomfortably when he announced:<p>

"It's the fact that the Aurors aren't like a normal office full of people, they're bound together through experience. They're like a family, like a group. A group I can be part of and you can't. And you don't like it."

Carrie forced herself to give a humourless chuckle.

"As a wizard you've been part of a group I'm excluded from my entire life, Ted." she pointed out a little bitterly. "I'm perfectly used to it all by now..."

"But you don't like it!" Teddy announced somewhat triumphantly. "You've never liked it! You do everything with me, you don't...you don't have a hobby or something you do without me, and you don't like the idea of it not being the same for me too..."

"That's a horrible thing to say!" Carrie exclaimed, face reddening in anger. "I do lots of things without you!"

"Like what?"  
>"I...I visit Cleo! I go and see my brothers...Aunt Susan...!"<p>

"You sit around looking after Imogen all day and you visit Mum and Dad's house. You see Cleo for a few hours a week if that, you see the twins even less and you've not been to your Aunt Susan's house in over a month. And even when you do none of you actually do anything, you just...sit there..."

"Well maybe if you hadn't gone and got yourself sacked we'd have the money for me to do something nice and you'd be around once in a blue moon to watch Imogen so I could go somewhere different!"

Teddy came to a halt again, and as he turned to face her again Carrie thought he looked regretful.

"Carrie," he said, voice suddenly void of all anger. "I've been out of that job for coming on three years. You've got to let it go, you really do..."

Carrie suspected that he was right.

But she also suspected that it didn't matter if he was right or not. Because she just couldn't help herself...

"Come on," Teddy sighed, backtracking a step or two so that he could reach to slide an arm around her shoulders. "Let's get dinner before we all starve to death."

They spoke very little for the rest of the evening, and Carrie felt distinctly dreadful about it. They retreated home from the chip shop in silence and sat around the kitchen table with Imogen, having left Remus and Dora to pick at their respective dinners in the bedroom upstairs. In contrast to Teddy and Carrie's silence the elder Mr and Mrs Lupin appeared to be having a very lively and animated discussion indeed, certainly not sober enough to suggest talk of their latest little financial burden.

"What d'you suppose that's all about?" Carrie wondered as Teddy retreated downstairs to the sound of Dora's laughter as Remus' exclaimed loudly: _Utter nonsense, Dora! Where's that Auror badge?! Give it here, I'm taking it away from you..._

"Wild and ludicrous theories about one of Mum's cases or another." Teddy had explained, smiling for the first time in hours. "It's been a while since I've heard them talk like that. So...whimsical...cheerful..."

Carrie felt rather tempted to disappear off upstairs and join in. Instead she sat at the kitchen table, taking turns with Teddy to talk to Imogen about anything and everything whilst not uttering a word to Teddy himself.

They headed home straight after dinner, calling goodbye up the stairs, only for Dora to come rushing down after them.

"Are you going to the stadium to watch the second round tomorrow?" she called to them as she reached the bottom step, and Teddy turned to offer her a bright smile.

"We're both going this time." he told her, only for Imogen to bounce up and down upon her heels and announce:

"And me! And me!"

"Not you too, Im." her father corrected, reaching to pat her fondly upon the head. "Uncle Timothy's going to take you to Gordan's Farm to feed the animals!"

"Goodness me!" Dora exclaimed as she came to join them standing beside the fireplace. "You lucky girl! Don't you feed them too much, d'you hear? Else they'll all go pop!"

"POP!" Imogen shrieked, throwing her arms up into the air, making all three adults jump.

"Exactly, Sweetheart!" Dora agreed, reaching to give the child a one-armed hug when she launched herself forward to attach herself to the front of the witch's robes. "I'm glad you're coming." she told Teddy. "You can come and pick Dad up on your way there."

"Dad's coming? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm sure it's _not_ a good idea, but he won't be dissuaded."

Teddy gave a snort.

"He will be if I don't come and pick him up!"

His mother's lips twitched towards a smile, but she insisted:

"Don't be like that, Ted. Come and get him at half nine sharp. I'll make sure he's up and about in good time."

"We'll cheer nice and loudly for you." Carrie assured the Auror as Teddy turned to reach for the pot of floo powder, and though the muggle expected to be offered a scowl, instead Dora grinned and told her:

"I'm glad to hear it."

They fell into bed the same way they had done for weeks, and yet this time was different. For once Teddy had no need to be up at the crack of dawn, having been given the morning off to watch the second round of duelling. He lay in bed, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling, in no rush to fall asleep.

Carrie felt rather as if she should say something. Apologise for her attitude that had apparently been all too obvious over the past two years. Tell him things would be different from now on. Tell he was right about everything...

Instead she found herself mumbling:

"Bit reckless, isn't it? Your dad going tomorrow, I mean."

"Hm." Teddy said, frowning deeply, and Carrie confessed:

"That's not like him."

"It has to do with Mum." Teddy reasoned, yawning widely. "That makes it exactly like him."

"D'you think he'll be alright?"

"I hope so."

There was a long pause, before Carrie wondered:

"D'you think _we'll_ be alright?"

Teddy visibly swallowed.

"I hope so." he said.

Carrie felt somewhat shaken. She had expected him to say: Of course we'll be alright.

Of course I'm not upset by your attitude. Of course you'll manage to change. Of course we'll get over it...

She thought of saying it herself, but she wasn't sure he would believe her.

Teddy sighed heavily at the long silence that followed, and she felt his arm sliding under the sheets, reaching to pull her towards him.

"Come here." he murmured, pulling her sideways until she was nestled snugly against his side, and as he wrapped his arms around her he wondered: "What am I going to do with you?"

Carrie didn't know. She told him so.

"I'm sorry we never talked about it," he admitted ruefully, face buried in her hair. "We should've done...before I signed up for training."

"Why?" Carrie asked dully. "I was never going to tell you not to do it. Everybody was so pleased! Your mum was so excited..."

"I don't care what Mum or anybody thought! It's got nothing to do with any of them."

"Well it does now. You've practically bankrupted your parents so you could continue training. How'd you fancy turning round and telling them you're going to quit because I don't like it? That's not going to happen!"

"They'd forgive me eventually."

"I doubt it, and even if they did you wouldn't forgive me, would you?"

Teddy sighed. Carrie suspected that this meant no, he wouldn't forgive her in the slightest.

"Let's just...wait and see." he suggested pleadingly. "Wait and see what it's like once I've qualified. It'll be so much better, I promise it will. And if you really can't stand it after six months or so then...then well I'll...we'll talk about it again. Besides, this is no time for drastic decisions like that. We need stability...routine. For Imogen and for us as a family what with Dad being...you know..."

"You're probably right." Carrie said. She was certain he was more than _probably_ right, but she was feeling much too bitter about the whole situation to tell him so.

But then he leant to kiss her and she soon forgot that she felt bitter at all.

It seemed like it had been forever since a kiss goodnight had laster more than a fraction of a second, since sliding hands in hair and tangling legs were not soon interrupted by: _well, goodnight then Sweetheart_.

It seemed strange, too, that she hadn't noticed how much she had missed it, missed him, them, alone together...

Maybe this was half the problem, Carrie realised as, after they both gazed at one another with briefest of pauses of consideration he reached to fumble with the hem of her camisole. Sometimes it was as if they were barely married at all.


	16. The Second Round

_Note: Apologies for the slow update, I got distracted writing Blood Magic..._

_Blame Trixie. I always do. :-)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**16: The Second Round**

The arena was positively heaving with spectators the following morning when Carrie arrived with Teddy and Remus to take their seats, and it took them such a long while to battle their way through the crowds that they had barely sat down when Carrie spotted the figure of the commentator stepping out into the middle of the arena.

Eight long raised wooden platforms had been set in a series of neat lines upon the sandy arena floor, each with steps on either end and a shimmering line of chalk had been drawn across their centres, slitting each little stage into two. High above the arena an array of flags from nations all across the world had been hung, such a cheerful burst of colour that Carrie felt the atmosphere seemed far less tense than during the first round. Indeed it all looked somewhat more formal. Benches lined the outskirts of the arena and Carrie had just spotted eight figures dressed in black robes rising from their seats upon one such bench when the commentator's voice began to boom around the stadium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to this morning's second round matches for this year's National Duelling Championships!"

Just as they had done before, the crowd cheered wildly, waving flags and banners in the air as if their lives quite depended upon it. Carrie consented to joining in and beside her Teddy let out an enthusiastic whistle.

"The National Duelling Association wishes you a fantastic morning! Let's get this show started! Please welcome today's judges, whose nations all competed in this arena yesterday! Remember that their word is final! From Croatia, President of the Croatian Duelling Society, Alen Novak! From Kenya, Former National Duelling Champion, Joan Wangai! From Greece, Head of the Greek Auror Department, Rasmus Levendakis..."

As each judge was introduced and, after a nod or two to the spectators the witch or wizard in questions had set off to stand beside one of the eight raised platforms, the crowd clapped politely. Carrie took the lull in excitement as an opportunity to turn to eye the wizard sat next to her scrutinisingly.

"Yes," Remus informed her as he stifled a yawn into the sleeve of his robes, "Before you ask, I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

Carrie pulled a face.

"It's just you look a bit...well..."

"Unwell?" he suggested, offering her a raised eyebrow. "Merlin, imagine that!"

Carrie frowned at him.

He had been irritable the moment she had set eyes upon him that morning, when she and Teddy had arrived to find him sat upon the bottom stair in the hallway, lacing up his shoes.

_I can do that if you like,_ Carrie had suggested, flinching a little when he seemed to wobble at the shift in gravity as he bent forward, and he had paused in his task to offer her an utterly incredulous look that she should deem it necessary to ask. He'd muttered irritably when Teddy had helped him to his feet a few minutes later and ever since Teddy had insisted upon apparating all three of them to the arena himself the werewolf's mutterings had blossomed into bad-tempered sarcasm. He'd resorted to saying nothing at all when, queuing for tickets, Carrie had asked him if he wanted a bottle of water. He had instantly lost his temper and demanded:

_For the love of Merlin, stop fussing over me! _

He went quiet when Carrie had pointed out that she had intended on buying one for herself.

_It would be silly not to offer_, she'd told him. And then she had bought him one anyway.

"I just don't want anything awful to happen like last time, that's all." Carrie pointed out as she watched him reach to unscrew the lid to his bottle of water, and Remus took a long swig before insisting:

"Nothing awful is going to happen, Carrie. Do you honestly think I'd have come if I thought it would do?"

"Yes." Teddy murmured from Carrie's other side, and before Remus could open his mouth to protest the doors at the side of the arena were being pulled open and the commentator announced:

"And now please give a warm welcome to today's competitors! Here they are! And first up, leading the teams out into the arena this morning, the National Duelling Team of Great Britain! Captained today by Nymphadora Lupin!"

The crowd gave a deafening roar as the home team trooped into the arena, and Carrie spotted Dora at the front, leading the way past the commentator and round the edge of the arena. As each Auror entered, the commentator announced their name in his booming voice, each one raising a fresh shriek of excitement from the crowd. After Britain the teams filed out into the arena alphabetically, and as Albert Diggory stepped out into the arena he was almost instantly dwarfed by the hulking figure who came just a short moment after him.

"Next," called the commentator, "the National Duelling Team of Albania! Led by their captain, Valbona Luga!"

At the sight of their Deputy Head of Auror's apparent arch-nemesis, the British supporters booed and hissed, and as she stomped forward, Luga looked up towards the stands, visibly scowling...

All of a sudden the steady flow of Aurors into the arena came to a grinding halt, and Carrie's eyes roamed along the line to spot that Dora had come to an abrupt stop, turning too to look around at the crowd. The witch drew her wand and, after the briefest of pauses of hesitation, pointed it at her throat...

And then she cleared her throat. Exceptionally loudly. At the magically amplified interruption to the commentary the crowd's booing died down and the commentator turned to look round at her.

"Sorry to interrupt!" The Deputy Head of Aurors announced, much to the crowd's obvious surprise. "But I'd like to say something. I'd just like to say that if anybody wants to continue to heckle Ms Luga or any other dueller here for that matter, I'll happily turn around and walk straight back out of this arena! And I'm sure the rest of the home team will follow me! This is a civilised competition, not a children's pantomime!"

Stunned silence.

Carrie's eyes darted over to where Luga stood, and found that the half-giant was staring at Dora along with everybody else. She appeared to be scowling more than ever, indeed her expression was bordering on murderous.

"That's all, thanks!" Dora decided, turning to offer the commentator an apologetic look. "Sorry about that... do carry on!" And with that she jabbed her wand at her throat again, shot Luga a bright smile over her shoulder, then turned on her heel and carried on walking.

The crowd was somewhat deflated at having been given a verbal slap on the wrists and as the next few teams filed out into the arena they were met with somewhat sober applause. They appeared to have regained their full enthusiasm by the time the team from Zambia had completed the line up, and there came an almighty cheer when the commentator announced that it was time to begin.

"Let's take a moment to familiarise ourselves with the rules!" the commentator boomed as the teams all sat down, some of them turning to chat to one another whilst others set about a series of stretches as if they were about to run a marathon. "The judges' rulings are final and not up for debate! Each win will raise a team's flag higher in the air, whilst each dueller will earn themselves individual skill points during each duel, based on both their duelling technique and the complexity of their chosen spells! The two flags highest in the air by the end of the morning will be eligible to compete in the final, along with our victors Sweden and Japan from yesterday's contest! Out of these four, the two teams whose duellers have accumulated the highest number of skill points during their duels will go through to the final! The highest individual scorer from these two teams will be eligible to be named...National Duelling Champion!"

At the mention of an overall champion, the crowd went utterly wild.

The second round of the National Duelling Championship was, Carrie discovered, a somewhat busy affair and at first she was not quite sure where to look. As the waiting duellers sat upon the benches around the edge of the arena, waiting to be called forward, eight pairs set about taking their places upon the raised platforms.

Burton Hayes was the first British Auror to be summoned to a platform some five minutes into the proceedings, and Carrie watched as he climbed the steps at one end and walked briskly forward until he had met his opponent, who judging from her attire was representing Germany. Stood practically toe to toe upon the shimmering chalk line, the two Aurors took a moment to mumble some sort of cheerful greeting, before taking a careful step backwards and drawing their wands. Upon their judge's request they bowed low and offered one another what Carrie thought looked something like a salute with their wands. Formalities over with, they both turned their backs on one another and set about taking a number of careful steps away, only for the judge to give a shout, causing them to both spin around again, knees bent and wands raised...

"Three!" Carrie heard the judge shout, her voice somewhat shrill. "Two! One! Begin!"

Burton Hayes lunged forward, bent low to avoid his opponent's instant attack, and as the spell shot just past his shoulder he thrust his arm forwards, pointing towards the floor, only to flick his wrist upwards at the last minute, sending a spell streaking at an angle towards the witch's chest. As the woman was forced to leap back in her attempts to deflect the spell, Carrie leant sideways towards Remus, grinning widely.

"Did you know that's called a Stanislavian Dip?" the muggle asked the werewolf, feeling quite pleased with her small shred of knowledge.

At that precise moment a low shout of disapproval rose from the crowd and Carrie's eyes darted wildly around to see what it was that she had missed...

And there she spotted an already triumphant Valbona Luga stood upon one of the platforms, her first opponent landing upon the floor with a thump, unconscious after the Albanian dueller had knocked him square off his feet.

"Bloody hell," Teddy muttered as Luga turned and stomped her way back down the steps, a couple of mediwizards dashing forward to remove her victim. "She's not taking prisoners, is she?!"

The judge stood at the side of the platform raised his wand, there came a burst of red sparks and high above the arena the Albanian Flag rose a little further up into the air.

It was followed just a minute later by the Union Jack, as Burton Hayes at last sent his opponent's wand flying from her hand, the judge proclaiming him the winner. She then turned to gesture to a thin, long-limbed wizard with shaggy blonde hair, and as he rose from his seat Carrie spotted the flag of Australia emblazoned upon his back. As he made his way towards the platform, the judge glanced down at the clipboard she was holding before pointing at a second Auror...

As Dora rose slowly from her seat, seemingly oblivious to the hefty slap upon the shoulder that Jasmine offered her in encouragement, Carrie reached sideways to tug at Teddy's sleeve.

"Ted, look!" she hissed, and Teddy allowed himself to become distracted by his scowling at Valbona Luga's swaggering approach to another platform in order to look over at his mother, leaning forward in his chair eagerly.

Passing Burton Hayes on his way to the next platform, Dora exchanged a nod with her teammate before setting off slowly up the steps.

"How was she this morning?" Teddy asked his father, voice a little mumbled as if he did not wish to be overheard by those around them, and as Remus too leant forward in his chair, the werewolf recalled:

"Defiant."

Carrie wasn't entirely sure what this meant, but she found herself pursing her lips together rather worriedly all the same.

"Did she eat a decent breakfast?" Teddy wondered, and Remus gave a soft huff of amusement.

"Oh yes. She ate her own breakfast in between ranting and raving about the hearing this afternoon, then she ate half of my breakfast because she said I wasn't eating bloody fast enough, then she insisted on helping me dress in between informing me that she'll be Britain's highest scoring dueller today even if it bloody kills her. Then she disappeared into the floo with the final suggestion that she'd teach those hypocritical tossers in the Wizengamot what dedication to the profession bloody well means."

As Dora straightened up from bowing to her opponent and turned to walk carefully back along the platform, wand gripped resolutely in her hand, her son eyed her with a frown, before deciding:

"Excellent. She's going to kick this guy's arse, then!"

"Three! Two! One! Begin!"

Dora launched into an attack so aggressive that for a long while her opponent could manage nothing but shield charms and deflections, backing off towards the end of the platform, and by the time he managed to send a hex streaking her way Dora's foot was mere inches from the chalk line.

"Merlin, look at that!" Teddy breathed as the witch was forced to retreat back a few steps, and Remus observed:

"She'll never keep that up, she'll tire herself out before she gets to the halfway stage, she hasn't the stamina for it."

"Oh be quiet!" Teddy retorted, eyes alight with excitement as Dora ducked an incoming spell, knees bent so low that she was very nearly sat upon the floor. "It's brilliant!"

"If she were sensible she'd move a lot less." Remus murmured as he watched his wife spring suddenly upwards again, her latest spell striking her opponent in the shoulder, his arm giving such a violent spasm that his wand flew from his hand. "There's only one dueller I've ever seen prance around so fluidly like that for a prolonged period of time without getting hit. In fact the two of them are looking remarkably similar in posture from back here. It's unnerving."

"Who's that?" Carrie asked as Dora turned on her heel and walked calmly back down the steps to the sound of thunderous cheers from the audience. As the judge sent the Union Jack floating higher into the air, Remus recalled:

"Bellatrix, of course."

Carrie shuddered.

As time went on it soon became apparent that the home team was on a winning streak and as the Union Jack rose ever closer to the arena ceiling the crowd were in wildly high spirits...

And yet the more wands Carrie watched Dora and the rest of the team send flying from their opponents' hands, the more apprehensive Carrie was beginning to feel.

For each time Dora won a match via disarmament to deafening cheers from the crowd, a moment or so later Carrie would watch Valbona Luga's next victim crash to the floor, out stone cold, the crowd shouting disapprovingly.

"Not very subtle, is she?" a voice from behind Carrie observed as Luga stomped off down the steps, leaving the medical team who appeared to have taken to shadowing her to rush forward yet again. Carrie twisted in her seat to look up to find Harry in the row behind.

"She's vicious! She's knocked out everybody who's duelled her!" the muggle complained as Remus and Teddy glanced over their shoulders too, and Harry gave a snort.

"She's a one trick hippogriff!" the Head of Aurors retorted, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "You wait, Tonks has been watching her like a hawk in between matches, she'll have her sussed!"

"Tonks is flagging." Ginny reasoned worriedly from her husband's side, nodding over to where Dora had just collapsed down upon a bench at Hale Grover's side, the younger Auror reaching to bump a shoulder against the witch's shoulder, only for her to slump forward, her head upon her knees. Carrie watched despairingly as Hale reached to sling an arm around Dora's shoulder's, leaning to speak loudly into her ear, and Dora glanced up towards the ceiling, where the flags informed her that Great Britain and Albania were neck and neck, followed just a short distance behind by Denmark. Dora offered Hale a somewhat exhausted smile, reaching to snatch up a large bottle of water which she proceeded to guzzle as Hale turned his attention to the platform in front of them. Albert Diggory had just mounted the platform to face one of Albania's wizards, a squat yet broad shouldered man with a scraggly beard and a shiny bald head.

"GO ON ALBERT!" a small gathering of wizards a few rows forward bellowed, jumping to their feet with whistles and waving arms, and as Carrie noted their scarlet Auror robes she heard Teddy beside her join in with their enthusiastic chant: "BLUE EYED BERTIE! HE FIGHTS DIRTY!"

Within seconds half of the arena were shrieking the chant at the top of their lungs, and Carrie leant forward in her seat eagerly as down below the two duellers came to a halt in front of one another. Albert Diggory gave a low bow, and the Albanian wizard gave not much more than a nod of the head.

It turned out to be one of the most aggressive duels that Carrie had seen all morning, it dragged on for many long minutes until both Dora and Hale grew tired of simply watching and had risen to their feet, bellowing encouragement...

Or, in Dora's case, a number.

"BERTIE!" Carrie could just about hear the Deputy Head of Aurors shouting at the top of her lungs. "EIGHT! DO IT, DO EIGHT!"

"What's so crucial about the number eight?" Carrie wondered aloud as Dora resorted to slamming a fist down upon the raised platform in an attempt to get Albert's attention, and Teddy recalled:

"Different moves and tactics get given numbers. That way you can talk about them in the middle of a raid or something without giving your plans away."

"And eight is what, exactly?" Carrie asked, only to let out a gasp of horror when Albert suddenly lunged sideways, stumbling so awfully that she thought he was about to fall and lose hold of his wand...

The Albanian dueller hesitated, apparently anticipating a victory...

...and within the blink of an eye Albert had sprung back firmly onto his feet, wand thrust forward, sending his opponent sprawling backwards onto the floor, wand clattering across the platform until he fell from the edge, landing at the judge's feet.

"Key Tactic Eight," Teddy recited as Albert turned to hop down from the platform, grinning broadly. "Feign Weakness!" As they watched Dora congratulate the young Auror, Teddy smirked and pointed out: "Albert Diggory isn't the only one who knows how to fight dirty, you know. _Somebody_ taught him how!"

"Tonks never taught him that in a million years." Harry sniggered, clapping Albert's victory loudly along with everybody else. "She's the last person in the world who would know how to save herself from falling over in a split second like that!"

They all laughed at this observation, all except for Remus whose expression had grown abruptly worried.

"I knew she should have paced herself..." the werewolf murmured despairingly, and Carrie turned back to see Hale Grover and Albert Diggory both leading Dora by the arm back towards the bench. The trio sat down, Dora's head slumped again and Albert reached to pick up the bottle of water, pushing it into the witch's hands. Hale was looking around searchingly, and after a moment he caught the attention of a passing mediwitch, beckoning her with a wave of his hand. The woman came to crouch down in front of Dora, reaching into her pocket to draw out her wand. The two witches exchanged a brief conversation, Carrie watched Dora shake her head repeatedly, and then the witch held up her wand in front of the Auror, moving it slowly from side to side. It reminded her of a muggle doctor holding up a biro and instructing their patient to _keep watching the pen_. After reaching a conclusion of one form or another, the mediwitch went back to asking rapid questions, and again Dora continuously shook her head. After a while the mediwitch rose to her feet and hurried away again, ready to deal with Luga's latest victim who, though lucky enough to be the first to remain conscious, appeared to have broken her ankle...

It was then, as Hale Grover was summoned to face another opponent, that it occurred to Carrie that, having been making her way steadily around the arena all morning, a trail of injured and unconscious Aurors in her wake, Valbona Luga was drawing ever closer to the platform that Dora had been duelling on for the majority of the time...

Indeed, Luga had just stepped down from the platform to Dora's left and was striding forward towards where Dora and Albert were sitting.

"How many duels are there left to go?" Carrie asked Remus worriedly, and the werewolf looked up towards the rising flags and, frowning deeply, guessed:

"Only a couple or so, I imagine."

Carrie watched apprehensively as Luga came to a halt just a short distance from the two British duellers. Instead of sitting down, the half-giant simply stood, arms folded firmly across her chest. After taking a moment to size them up, she stalked forward and dropped down to sit at Dora's side.

Dora glanced sideways at the sound of movement beside her and, spotting the scowling tower of a witch beside her, the metamorphmagus merely smiled amicably before turning back to continue to talk to Albert.

"Mind games." Remus murmured darkly as Luga reached to give her arms a stretch, flexing her fingers in a vaguely intimidating manner, but Dora didn't seem to even notice. Carrie supposed that in itself constituted a mind game too.

Merlin, the muggle thought despairingly as Albert rose to his feet, summoned by a passing Xander Pikket who had just completed his final duel, leaving Dora alone with Luga. What if the contest didn't finish soon enough? What if Dora and Luga were both beckoned forward...

Another duel finished, the judge turned to look searchingly around, and as the witch's gaze came to rest upon the two rivals sat side by side, Carrie drew in a deep, apprehensive breath...

"Oh Merlin..." she mouthed in panic a moment later when the judge gestured for the two captains to stand. Carrie felt her blood run cold as Luga rose to her feet, the movement leaving the bench to give a shudder. Dora rose stiffly after her and the two of them strode forwards towards the platform...

The pair came to come to a stop just in front of the judge, and the loud blast of a horn to signal the end of the round made Carrie very nearly jump out of her skin, as she watched the judge reach to shake Luga, then Dora by the hand, murmuring congratulations of one form or another as the commentator's voice announced to the cheering crowd:

"And at the end of the contest it gives me great pleasure to announce that the two teams with the greatest number of wins and joining Sweden and Japan with a chance to be in the final _are_..."

There was a long pause for dramatic effect, before the voice boomed: "Coming in second place this morning...GREAT BRITAIN!"

The arena exploding with cheers and applause and Carrie failed to resist the urge to leap up from her seat with a whoop of excitement. By the time she dropped back down into her seat a long minute later, as the noise finally began to die down, her hands had grown sore from clapping so hard.

In contrast, Carrie saw, Dora took this news remarkably soberly, still stood with Luga and the judge, clapping her teammates, a modest smile playing upon her lips.

"Joining Sweden, Japan and Great Britain with a chance of competing in the final," the commentator continued at last. "With the greatest number of wins this morning...ALBANIA!"

The crowd applauded politely, save for a handful of Albanian supporters in the stands opposite where Carrie sat, who, despite their meagre number, managed to shriek and bellow their approval quite wildly. Down upon the arena floor, Luga flung her arms up into the air with a victorious shout, making the judge stood beside her jump in surprise, the pointed hat almost slipping from her head.

"Please give a warm round of applause and show your appreciation for all the other teams who fought with such skill and determination this morning!" the commentator requested, and it seemed to Carrie that the losing teams received a greater cheer than the Albanian victors by far.

The British and Albanian teams each congregated upon a raised platform as the other teams trooped back out of the arena. As soon as the last dueller had disappeared through the double doors, the commentator announced:

"And now, please welcome back yesterday's winning teams! The National Duelling Team of Sweden! And the National Duelling Team of Japan!"

Carrie felt quite weary of applauding as the two teams marched out into the arena and took to a platform each, leaving all four teams stood in a series of straight, regimented lines upon the platforms, but before long a tense silence had fallen over the arena, as the spectators waited to hear which two teams had made it through to the final.

The silence seemed to drag on forever, and Carrie found herself fidgeting impatiently, so much so that Teddy reached to clamp a hand down upon her knee.

"Do you think we're through?" Carrie whispered, but Teddy merely leant further forward in his seat.

And then at long last the commentator's voice sounded yet again, making Carrie's heart lurch in her chest.

"The final skill point counts have been made! It gives me great pleasure to announce the first team, through to the final of the National Duelling Championship is...BULGARIA!"

The crowd couldn't seem to help it, as they watched Luga and her teammates thrust victorious fists up in the air the crowd booed loudly, and at such a negative response the commentator hastily continued:

"The second team through to the final of the National Duelling Championship, facing Bulgaria on Saturday evening is..."

_Great Britain_, Carrie silently pleaded, teeth gritted in anticipation. _Great Britain...please Great Britain..._  
>"GREAT BRITAIN!"<p>

Both Carrie and Teddy leapt to their feet as the crowd screamed in approval, and in her euphoria Carrie turned to fling her arms around Teddy's neck, hugging him tightly.

"It's not over!" Teddy bellowed over the eruption of sound, throwing his arms around his wife in turn. "It's not over, they haven't announced each team's overall highest scorer!"

Carrie felt instantly deflated, and as the commentator requested quiet she felt even more apprehensive than before. Grip upon Teddy tightening she buried her face in the front of his robes, silently begging...pleading...

_Come on, Dora...please, please, please... _

"Bulgaria's champion and highest scorer! Eligible to be named National Duelling Champion...Valbona Luga!"

Unmoved by Luga's victory and deaf to the booing that once again rippled through the stands, Carrie screwed her eyes shut, grasping fistfuls of Teddy's robes...

_Please be Dora! Please, please be Dora..._

"Great Britain's champion..."

_Please, please, please..._

"...and highest scorer!"

_Come on, Dora..._

"Eligible to be named National Duelling Champion..."

_Please!_

The heart had stopped dead in Carrie's chest...

_Come on, Dora...please..._

She was sure she heard the commentator draw in a long, deliberate breath...

_Come on..._  
>"NYMPHADORA LUPIN!"<p>

"YES!" Carrie shrieked at the top of her lungs, leaping back and spinning around to face the arena, and as Remus sprang remarkably nimbly to his feet to throw his arms up to clap enthusiastically, Carrie watched breathlessly as the British team let out a raucous cheer, Hale Grover and Xander Pikket lifting their champion up onto their shoulders as the rest of the team crowded excitedly around them. Carrie felt her heart soaring euphorically in her chest and as she watched, Dora threw back her head, arms thrown up into the air...

Carrie watched the pale, exhausted witch let out such a shout of triumphant laughter that the entire arena could hear her...

And for the first time in weeks, the Auror's mousy hair brightened to a blindingly bright shade of pink, each vibrant strand positively glowing with hope.


	17. Psychological Warfare

_Note: We've 1 or 2 chapters left, depending on how I split it up!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**17: Psychological Warfare**

"Quickly! It'll be starting!"

"Set it down over here...careful..."

"I know, I know..."

"Turn it on! Turn it on!"

As Teddy finally managed to deposit the large wireless down upon Dora's dressing table, sending combs and bottles flying in all directions, Carrie dropped down upon the edge of the bed where Remus had collapsed some hour previous, utterly exhausted.

"Have you heard from her, yet?" the muggle asked the werewolf as Teddy hastily set about tuning the wireless, causing it to crackle and hiss in protest. "About the hearing, I mean?"

"Not a word." Remus murmured sleepily, shifting against his pillows until he was sat a little straighter. "I don't suppose she's had much spare time..."

And at that moment, with one final sharp tap from Teddy's wand the wireless was finally tuned just in time to hear the interviewer announce:

"...thank you very much! Now, the big day will be on us tomorrow! We'll be coming to you live at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon for the final of this year's National Duelling Championship! And joining us now we have potential National Duelling Champions Valbona Luga of Albania and Nymphadora Lupin of Great Britain! Good evening, both of you!"

There came a grunt of a greeting from Luga, before Dora's voice replied:

"Good evening."

"Thank you both for taking time out from your celebrations to talk to us...I hear there's a party in full swing at Xander Pikket's house! Have we dragged you away, Tonks?"

"No, actually. I've not been over there, I've had...Ministry duties to attend to this afternoon."

"All work and no play!"

"That's right."

"Oh dear! And how are the Albanian team celebrating their victory today, Ms Luga?"

"We have drink in Leaky Cauldron." Luga's deep voice announced, and at the mention of the pub in question the interviewer exclaimed:

"Ah, the Leaky Cauldron! That's becoming a favourite haunt of the Albanian team, isn't it?"

Luga gave a vague grunt.

"Speaking of what goes on in the Leaky," the interviewer said after a sizeable pause. "I must admit I'm surprised to see the two of you here, sat side by side...!"

Dora let out a distinctly disapproving chuckle.

"Oh, we're best mates really!" she joked, a hint of warning in her voice which the interviewer seemingly ignored as he asked:

"Are you really? Well I never! Is this true, Ms Luga?"

"No." Luga grunted.

Dora and the interviewer both laughed somewhat awkwardly.

"What would you describe your relationship as then, Ms Luga?" the interviewer wondered. "What're your thoughts on our Deputy Head of Aurors, here?"

"Oh bloody hell..." Teddy muttered as he sunk down to sit upon the floor, and Carrie winced in anticipation of what might come next.

"She good dueller." Luga said, "Yes, she quite good."  
>"She's quite a good dueller?"<p>

"Yes."

"You've been watching her?"

"Oh yes."

"And how do you feel about facing Tonks in the arena in the upcoming final? Are you...confident?"

"Yes. I know I can win. She...she tricky, but I beat her."

"Tricky? What d'you mean by that?"

"She play games with me. With my mind."

"Oh, Tonks!" the interviewer laughed, "Psychological Warfare!" Dora let out a huff of amusement but before she could respond, Luga announced coldly:

"She play all nice and innocent, like she like me! Like I am the bad one! All...smiles and jokes! She not fool me, though! I am not fooled! I will show her, in the arena! You! You watch your back! I'll knock you out! Like all the others!"

There was a long, rather stunned pause, before the interviewer cleared his throat loudly and murmured:

"Well...Tonks...? What...what've you got to say to that?"

For a long moment the wireless was quiet, hissing softly and Carrie found herself holding her breath.

"Tonks...?" the interviewer said again, and Dora finally spoke.

"Personally I strongly disapprove of winning via knock out rather than disarmament." the British Champion admitted pleasantly. "This is supposed to be a friendly competition, after all!"

"I knock you out!" Luga snapped, furious at Dora's tone, and Carrie could just imagine Dora smiling brightly as she said:

"Well, if you _insist _on taking things this seriously..."

"Yes, I knock you out!" Luga interrupted, voice raised, and Dora cheerfully informed the Albanian Auror:

"I'm going to put you in _hospital_, Ms Luga."

"You're going to...to put her in hospital?" the interviewer repeated, sounding alarmed at this sudden turn of events.

"Yes," Dora agreed calmly. "That's right."

Shocked silence.

And then Dora laughed and wondered:

"So who's the bad one now?"

Almost as soon as the broadcast had ended, Teddy and Carrie had bolted back downstairs to wait impatiently for Dora's return home, and when she did finally stumble out of the floo some half an hour later, Britain's highest scoring dueller found herself swept up off her feet as her son dived forward to fling his arms around her, twirling the two of them around wildly until Dora was forced to yank herself free, stumbling and dizzy.

"That woman..." the Auror announced, face contorting breathlessly as she reached to grasp hold of the mantlepiece to steady herself. "...is going to murder me!"

"Oh, be quiet!" Carrie exclaimed, bounding excitedly forward to envelope the witch in a hug. "She'll do no such thing!"

"Yeah, you're going to put her in hospital remember!" Teddy reminded her, and then he promptly dissolved into laughter, slap a hand down upon his leg as he doubled over in amusement.

"I said I'd put Bellatrix in a body bag, but that was never going to happen, was it?" Dora grumbled, reaching to rake a weary hand through her now mousy hair, and at the exasperated look her son offered her she consented to cracking a grin, telling them: "Oh, but you should've seen the look on her face!"

"You were brilliant, Mum." Teddy told her as Carrie let go and took a step backwards to beam at the witch, nodding agreement.

"Ted's right, you were amazing!"

"That poor Australian man...I think he's going to have nightmares about you..."

"You were so quick!"

"It was just brilliant, everybody was cheering so loudly!"

"We need to celebrate! There's wine in the cupboard!"

"Right," Dora chuckled quietly, reaching to tug at her robes to straighten them a bit, and it was then that Carrie noticed just how pale and tired she looked. "You...you get some glasses and um...I'll just...just pop upstairs for a minute..."

"How was the hearing?" Teddy called as an afterthought a moment later as he watched his mother shuffle off towards the stairs, and Carrie felt her euphoria suddenly stunted, she had quite forgotten about Dora's appearance before the Wizengamot that afternoon.

"What?" Dora mumbled, pausing to glance over her shoulder at them, only to mutter: "Oh...yes...yes, it was um...well...never mind about that, eh? I'll...tell you about it later..."

Carrie wasn't sure what to make of that.

Apparently Teddy did, for once Dora was out of earshot he muttered:

"Bloody hell, she's an exhausted wreck!" Nevertheless he half-bounded off towards the kitchen, announcing: "I'll fetch us some glasses! We'll take them upstairs, shall we?"

Carrie found herself half-running up the stairs, engulfed by a flood of excitement at the prospect of celebrating, and as she skidded to a halt in the bedroom doorway, finding Dora sprawled upon the bed at Remus' side as usual, she announced:

"Ted's going to bring the wine up here!"

"Wine?" Remus murmured, apparently unconcerned by Carrie's appearance as he leant to press a kiss to his wife's cheek. "Excellent..."

"Not for you!" Dora snapped, reaching to swat him playfully upon the arm, only for any further protests to be stifled by a firm kiss as the werewolf gathered her up in his arms, hugging her tightly.

"I'll get utterly legless if I fancy it." he told her a moment later once they finally paused for breath. "My wife's just been named British Duelling Champion and she's single-handedly declared war on Albania over the WWN..."

"Shh!" Dora sniggered, burying her face in the crook of his neck as Teddy's footsteps sounded upon the stairs. "Don't exaggerate..."

"She was utterly magnificent," Remus went on, reaching to smooth the Auror's mousy hair. "Especially her hair...what's happened to that, hm? It's looking distinctly not pink again..."

Dora giggled.

"It's gone!"

"Oh I don't believe that for a second..." Remus whispered, prising her face back from his shoulder so that he could kiss her again. "It'll be back...any...time...now..."

And as Teddy appeared in the doorway, levitating a small tray complete with wine glasses and bottle into the room, Carrie was pretty certain that as Remus reached to rake an experimental hand through Dora's mousy locks the dull strands seemed brightened by a distinctly pink tinge.

"Break it up!" Teddy instructed as the tray deposited itself down beside the wireless. "Grab a glass, we'll have a toast! I've bought you juice, Dad..."

"What did the Wizengamot say?" Carrie heard Remus murmur to Dora once Teddy had become preoccupied with pouring the drinks, and when Carrie glanced round she saw Dora's expression darken as she breathed:

"A reduced fine. A reduced fine, but a fine nevertheless."

"How much?" Remus asked, voice dropped even lower, and Dora's response was so quiet that Carrie only caught the deep frown that creased Remus' brow for a brief moment, before he reached to pat the witch upon the arm, murmuring:

"We'll find the money from somewhere, I'm sure."

"Mm..." Dora muttered, yawning widely. "I was thinking of selling a kidney..." Then she reached to accept a glassful of wine form Teddy with a broad grin, adding: "Thanks, love."

"I'll have that." Remus decided, reaching to pluck the glass from the witch's hand before she could think to react, and with that he took a generous gulp.

"Remus!" Dora exclaimed, reaching to yank the glass back from his grasp, and Carrie winced as in the struggle the couple managed to splash half the contents of the glass down Remus' front and onto the duvet.

"For Merlin's sake..." Dora grumbled, reaching to slam the glass down upon the bedside table with one hand and landing a hefty slap against Remus' shoulder with the other. "Look at what you've made me do! And you heard the bloody healers, didn't you?! NO ALCOHOL!" \

"Don't be such a killjoy," Remus told her, apparently entirely unconcerned by the mess. "One mouthful isn't going to kill me!"

"No, but I bloody might!" his wife retorted, reaching to shuffle away from the stain that was seeping into the covers. "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you this evening, anyway?"

And Remus sobered abruptly at her scolding before admitting quietly:

"I feel...happy. For the first time in weeks I feel happy."

They stripped the sheets from the bed, abandoning them on the floor for an hour as they sat chattering cheerily about the Championship final, until the darkness outside the bedroom window prompted Carrie and Teddy to drain their glasses and prepare to leave.

"Timothy'll be wondering where we've gotten to," Teddy said, offering Carrie a hand to pull her up from her perch upon the bed, "and it's past Immy's bedtime!"

"It's past _my_ bedtime." Remus said with a yawn, and Dora shuffled towards the side of the bed until she could sit up, before stooping to gather up the discarded bedding.

"Get this washed before bed, shall I?" the witch murmured as she got to her feet. "Don't fall asleep yet, love, I'll come back up with some fresh sheets."

"Merlin," Carrie muttered as she and Teddy trooped out of the door after Dora a moment later, having bid Remus goodnight, "I don't think I've done any washing since...forever! I'll have to stick a load in when we get back, Ted. Don't let me forget, will you? Immy'll run out of underwear if I'm not careful!"

Carrie and Teddy did a quick tidy up of the kitchen when they got downstairs as Dora retrieved the large wash bucket from under the sink, setting it upon the kitchen table and filling it with soapy water before fetching the scrubbing brush from a drawer.

Carrie was just putting away the first cleaned wine glass when she became distracted by Dora wondering aloud:

"What in Merlin's name is that?"

Abandoning the glass on the countertop, Carrie came to stand at Dora's side to find the witch squinting down at the soiled duvet cover, thumb scuffing curiously at a strange, pale green stain upon the cotton.

"Well it's not red wine." Carrie concluded rather unhelpfully, frowning deeply.

"Mm..." Dora agreed, and as Teddy came to peer over her shoulder she raised the material to her nose with a sniff.

"Painkiller potion?" Teddy suggested, only for Dora to point out:

"It's the wrong colour. For the ones I buy, anyway."

"It's a weird colour." Carrie muttered as Dora went back to rubbing a thumb across the blemish.

"But it's definitely a potion." Teddy insisted, and with a sigh Dora flung the duvet cover down onto the table, making a beeline for the stairs.

"If he's been slipping potions behind my back, I'm going to bloody hex him..." Carrie heard the witch mutter, and as she disappeared upstairs Teddy reached to dunk the duvet into the soapy water, setting the brush to scrub it clean with a flick of his wand.

"I think that's our cue to leave, Sweetheart." the wizard murmured at the sound of raised voices upstairs, and Carrie went to hastily put the wine glasses back in the cupboard before following Teddy towards the front door.

Imogen was surprisingly chipper that evening when they went to pick her up from her Uncle Thomas and Uncle Timothy's house over in the neighbouring town of Moorbrook.

"Have you been feeding her Smarties?" Carrie accused lightly when Timothy had opened the door and Imogen came bounding across the sitting room, launching herself forward to attach herself to the front of Teddy's coat.

"Nope," Timothy informed his sister apologetically. "I'm afraid that would have been Jackson."

Peering past Timothy into the sitting room, Carrie spotted the curly haired thirteen year old boy in question lying sprawled upon the sofa, and called:

"Hi Jackson!"

The teenager, still dressed in his ruffled school uniform, striped green and yellow tie dangling in a loose knot around his neck, merely gave a huff and went back to staring at the ceiling, reaching to jam a set of acid green earphones into his ears.

"Ignore him," Timothy suggested, shooting the boy a glance over his shoulder. "Nat's mum says he's at that awkward age..."

"No, don't ignore him!" a voice insisted from the kitchen, and with that Timothy's fiancee Natalie came sweeping into the room, frizzy brown ponytail bobbing up and down as she made a beeline for the sofa. "Jackson!" she demanded, reaching to pull the headphones from her son's ears. "Don't be so rude! Say hello to your Auntie Carrie and Uncle Ted!"

Jackson eyed his future step-aunt and step-uncle in deliberation for a long moment, before consenting to muttering:

"Hi." And with that, he jammed the headphones back in his ears and went back to staring at the ceiling.

"Oh dear..." Carrie muttered as Natalie sighed irritably and came to join Timothy at the door.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him recently!"

"It's alright Nat, leave him." Timothy murmured, reaching to slide an arm around her shoulders. "He's just...you know, getting used to things."

"Tim's right," Carrie agreed as Teddy scooped Imogen up into his arms. "He's bound to feel a bit odd, now you two are engaged. It's always just been you and him before, hasn't it Natalie? He's not had a...dad around, I mean."

Natalie's face tinged pink, and Carrie felt herself colour a little too.

She couldn't imagine what her parents would have said if they had still been well, to hear that their son Timothy, the sensible twin, was going to marry Natalie Bryant. Natalie Bryant who had smoked at the age of twelve, gotten her first tattoo at fourteen, several piercings in unseemly places at fifteen and gotten pregnant by a French exchange student in the girl's second floor bathroom at Oakhurst Manor School at the age of sixteen...

And yet it was happening, apparently. The two had become engaged some six months ago, after dating for just over a year.

If it wasn't for the presence of Jackson and the odd glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from the top of Natalie's jeans, Carrie would find it difficult to believe this Natalie and the teenaged tearaway were the same person. The Natalie Carrie knew seemed far too mature and sensible. Being a parent appeared to have altered her world view massively. She had given up smoking the moment she had learnt she was pregnant, left baby Jackson with her mother in the evenings in order to attend evening classes to get her GCSEs and A Levels, and had worked weekends at the local supermarket ever since Jackson had been two years old, which had been where Timothy had run into her for the first time since their schooldays. They'd had a chat about whether or not he would buy doughnuts with raspberry or strawberry jam, and then he had asked her out for coffee.

Carrie had met her just a few weeks later and had liked her from the beginning, though in truth she only saw Natalie every once in a while when she was spending the day at Timothy and Thomas' house.

She didn't like to make Natalie feel awkward.

"Where's Thom?" Carrie asked, hastily steering the subject away from Natalie's jaded past, and Timothy told her:

"He's on a late shift...patrolling the town centre and arresting all the nutters who get thrown out the nightclubs."

"I'm pretty sure he enjoys it far too much!" Natalie sniggered, head coming to rest upon Timothy's shoulder, and Carrie agreed:

"Oh he does! Whoever thought it was a good idea to let Thomas join the police needs their head looked at!"

"How's your dad doing, Ted?" Timothy asked as Imogen wriggled in Teddy's arms in order to reach to grab a frizzy strand of natalie's hair, pulling it until it was straight, before releasing it to watch it ping back into it's coil, making the child giggle.

"He's...he's been in good cheer today, actually." Teddy recalled, smiling faintly at the thought. "Managed a trip out for the first time in days..."

"You think he's on the mend?" Natalie asked hopefully, and Carrie felt her mood darken for the first time in hours when Teddy admitted:

"I wouldn't go quite that far. He's...he's incredibly sick..." Gazing coming to rest upon the little girl in his arms, the wizard forced himself to smile and reason: "But he did do well today, didn't he Carrie?"  
>"Oh yes, very well. He was out of bed for hours, it was fantastic."<p>

"Seems to me like your grandad is as tough as old boots, Im!" Timothy said, reaching to poke a finger at Imogen's stomach, making her squirm.

"Grandad will get better soon." Imogen informed her uncle seriously, stifling her giggling so that she could fix him with an almost challenging look as if daring him to suggest otherwise. "Isn't that right, Mummy?"

"I hope so, Sweetheart." Carrie said, reaching to smooth the child's hair. "I'm sure he's doing his very best to get better..."

"Taking his medicine!"

"Yes, love. Taking medicine and getting lots of rest."

"And drinking lots of water."

"Yes, drinking and eating properly, all those sorts of things. And the hospital are keeping a good eye on him."

"So he will be better soon. With his medicine."

"Exactly, Im. Let's hope the hospital has everything in order and Grandad has plenty of rest and medicine and all those things."

"I'm sure he'll be better before you know it!" Timothy agreed, before holding out a hand to his niece and requesting: "Now give me five before you go, rascal!"

Imogen obediently reached to slap a hand enthusiastically against his palm as he told her: "And make sure you tell Mummy and Daddy all about the animals we saw at the farm today!"

"What d'you say to Uncle Timothy, Immy?" Teddy asked, and the little girl obediently said:

"Thank you for having me, Uncle Timothy."

"You're very welcome!" her uncle grinned, and with that he and Natalie bid Carrie and Teddy goodbye and before Carrie knew it Teddy had led the way round the corner out of view, before disapparating the three of them back home with a pop.

"Washing." Teddy reminded Carrie a moment later as he shuffled through the front door, careful not to knock Imogen's head against the doorframe, and as he went to put Imogen to bed Carrie made a beeline for the bathroom. She stood in the doorway for a long, despairing moment, glaring somewhat accusingly at the mountain of dirty clothes overflowing from the wash basket, before sighing heavily and wandering forward to start sorting through the chaotic mess.

Merlin, she thought absentmindedly as she tossed aside a pair of jeans in favour of snatching up a set of Teddy's work robes, to think that this time tomorrow Dora might be named National Duelling Champion! She hadn't realised the final would be held so soon, indeed she had felt somewhat shocked to hear about it on the wireless.

It was a relief really, she supposed as she snatched up one of Imogen's long sleeved t shirts, to have the competition over and done with, to give the family another little boost or at least let them focus entirely on what was important. Even at the expense of hope...

She was just about to pick out a few pairs of knickers and perhaps one of Teddy's shirts when Carrie froze, staring down at the t shirt in her hand.

The pale pink cotton had been splashed, the muggle saw, by a strange liquid of some kind that had left a rather large stain...

A rather large stain that was a familiar shade of potion-green.

Carrie promptly dropped the rest of the washing she was holding to the floor, rising abruptly to her feet, staring.

Sweet Merlin, she thought, heart beginning to race in her chest...

She didn't quite know what to think, what connection she was making in her mind, and yet...

A large lump had formed in her throat. Carrie swallowed it, before drawing in a deep breath to call:

"Teddy...?!"

"What is it, Sweetheart?" Teddy called back a moment later, and as she stared down at the stain upon her daughter's t shirt Carrie found herself mumbling:

"I have no idea..."


	18. Spinning

_Note: Dear Readers of 'Meet the...' 'fics Past and Present,_

_**This is a very long but hopefully well justified Author's Note.**_

_There have been, to date, eleven stories set in the 'Meet the...' 'ficverse and I have been writing these stories for over two years, Chapter One of Meet the Lupins having been published here on the 15th June 2010. _

_Which makes this a long series that has been in the works for a very long time indeed. _

_First of all, I would like to thank everybody who has ever taken the time to review one of these stories and spurring me on to write more of them. I have had a wonderful time dreaming up all of Carrie's various exploits, enemies and adventures, and it has always been lovely to hear that you have enjoyed reading about them. _

_Quite naturally for a series of this length, the number of readers and reviewers has tailed off over the last few stories and from what I can tell from reviews there are only a small number of you left! Being in my final year at University, I have a very limited amount of spare time which can be devoted to writing, and therefore I am currently considering whether or not to continue writing this series. I am by no means only motivated to write if I get lots of reviews! But even so, if nobody is still reading I may find my time more enjoyably spent on other 'fics with a larger readership – there is no point writing and posting if nobody is there to read after all! _

_**So, here is our situation:** I have almost finished one last 'Meet the...' one shot which I certainly will be posting after I finish Meet the Daughter, which will in turn be over within a chapter or two. I have also completed the first chapter of one last chaptered Meet the... story, and have a vague idea about the plot. _

_Whether or not I bother to post said final chaptered story and continue to write it is entirely up to you! _

_**If you are interested in reading it: Tell me!** _

_Because if you don't and nobody else does I will not bother to write it! This isn't a plea for reviews, it is simply a plea for clarity about what my readers want! So leave a review or send me a private message!_

_Again, thank you for all your kind reviews and for making writing so much fun!_

_Pip._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**18: Spinning**

Remus Lupin had never been terribly keen on the Weird Sisters. Their music was much too loud, no matter how much one lowered the volume on the wireless, and their songs always seemed to give him a headache.

Not that any of this seemed relevant anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had a headache, and right now he was determined to stay awake.

He reached groggily to raise the volume of the racket pounding out of the wireless that had been left upon his wife's dressing table in an attempt to fight off his impending slumber and fervently wished that Dora would hurry up fetching the clean sheets...

The werewolf glanced over at the clock upon the bedside table, frowning to see that it was fast approaching half past eleven at night.

He blinked.

And it was midnight.

Cursing silently that he had managed to dose of to sleep despite the blaring wireless, which had since faded to static, Remus rolled over to look towards the other side of the bed, finding it still empty.

Flopping down onto his back and screwing his eyes shut at the now familiar throb of a headache, he fumbled blindly around to retrieve his wand from the bedside table and swiped it in the vague direction of the wireless.

The crackling static ceased.

Remus listened for sounds of life, and upon hearing nothing he drew in a deep, weary breath and called:

"Dora...?"

It was not for a long few moments that he heard the sound of a creaking stair, prompting him to call:

"Are you coming to bed, darling?"

Again, there was a long pause before Dora finally called back:

"Yes, in...in a minute love...I um...I just...I won't be long..."

"Is everything alright down there?" Remus wondered, frowning into the backs of his eyelids at her tone, and she promptly called:

"Yes! Yes, everything's fine...just...just go to sleep..."

Dragging his eyes open Remus reached to push himself up into a sitting position, the world lurching somewhat sickeningly as he moved.

"Are you sure?" he called, sliding his feet out from under the covers so that he could climb out of bed, only to wince a little when Dora snapped:

"_Yes_!"

She was probably still angry from earlier, he thought somewhat irritably as he shuffled towards the landing. She'd come storming up the stairs not long after Teddy and Carrie had bid him goodnight, soiled duvet cover in her arms which she had promptly thrust under his nose and demanded to know:

_What's this?!_

_It's a duvet cover...?_ he'd responded after a long moment of blinking somewhat groggily at it, and had promptly regretted doing so because she had very nearly punched him in the face thrusting it a good half-inch away from his nose as she demanded:

_Wrong! Try again! _

He'd eyed the oddly coloured stain with a frown and confessed:

_I have no idea, darling._

_Don't lie to me, Remus!_ she'd snapped, _We've gone over this, haven't we? You're crap at it, so don't bother..._

He hadn't really known what to say, then. Nevertheless he had attempted to insist:

_Honestly Dora, I have no idea what it is. It looks like a...a potion, perhaps..._

_Yes, it DOES rather, doesn't it?! _Dora had agreed quite furiously, and with that she had sighed heavily and exclaimed: _D'you know what?! Forget it, I...I just...you're just...!_

He never had found out what she or indeed he just. Because before she could spit the words out Dora had stormed off downstairs again.

He'd felt far too bewildered to attempt to follow her.

He'd probably made her cry, he mused wearily as he reached the top of the stairs, grasping hold of the bannister to steady himself as he spied his wife sat upon the bottom step, face buried rather tellingly in her hands. He seemed to have quite a talent for that these days...

"Dora...?" he called somewhat tentatively, promptly feeling wretched for his lack of guts.

"I'm fine." came the surprisingly calm response. "I'll be right up."

Remus took a step down the stairs, only for the Auror to straighten up and turn to look up over her shoulder at him.

"Really love," she insisted, face distinctly tear-free, "I'm just coming."

Merlin, the werewolf thought as he squinted through the darkness down at her, even in this dim light she looked sickly, her complexion bleak and pale, her eyes rimmed with dark that left them to sink somewhat harrowingly into her face. She seemed half-starved, hunched shoulders leaving a neat line of boney ridges down her back as she reached to sweep a hand through her mousey hair.

"Come on," he suggested, taking another few careful steps down towards her. "Stay awake much longer and it'll finish you off!"

She gave a vague huff of almost-amusement, reaching to grasp hold of the bannister beside her.

"Oh I don't know..." she mumbled vaguely, frowning deeply as she hauled herself somewhat clumsily onto her feet. "I just...I...I need...I need..."

Remus very nearly skipped a couple of steps in surprise as she lurched abruptly forward, only saving herself from a fall by clinging onto the bannister. She swayed a little in the aftermath, only to turn to fling her arms around the bannister rail, hugging it tightly as her chin came to rest upon it's top, eyes drifting closed as she confessed:

"I need medicine or...or something, Remus, I...I don't think...I don't think I'm well..."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Remus hurried down the remaining steps, reaching to slide a steadying arm around her, free hand reaching to prise her face round so that he could inspect her more closely.

"You're dreadfully pale." he observed as she consented to releasing the bannister in favour of slumping against him instead. "Do you feel faint? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?"

"There's soapy water all over the floor in the kitchen." the witch complained into his chest, rather as if she hadn't heard him. "I...I dropped it...the wash bucket I mean because I had to grab the table...the...room was spinning..."

"When? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"...and...and I slipped and soaked my jeans and...I don't know...I sat there a while. The tiles were wonderful and cold. Then I got up and I went and sat in the sitting room and dried my jeans...I felt a bit better. But then I heard you calling so I got up and...bloody hell..."

"Come and sit down." Remus told her, carefully prising her away from his chest so that he could lead her slowly towards the sitting room. "I'll...I'll see what's in the cupboard under the stairs..."

"There's nothing much." Dora mumbled as they shuffled towards the doorway. "I looked in there earlier."

"Well I'll look again." he insisted, easing her carefully down onto the sofa, pulling a cushion closer so that she might rest her head against it. "Put your feet up and try to relax."

He went to rifle through the cupboard under the stairs, lips pressed together worriedly at the countless empty vials and bottles as he scoured the shelves for something useful.

"Sweetheart...?" Dora called after several minutes of his searching, and as he paused to stare despairingly at the row upon row of empty vials, Remus reached to drag a frustrated hand through his hair, calling:

"Mm...?"  
>"I'm...I'm sorry." the witch murmured, sounding abruptly sleepy. "I...let's just try and...and forget it..."<p>

"Forget what, darling?"

"The...the potions."

Remus immediately began to push aside empty bottles with renewed determination.

"No, I'll find you something, I will. There must be something here..."

"No...I mean...I mean your potions."

"My potions?"

"Yes. I...I won't...I won't keep on at you anymore, I promise. I just...the hospital said...and...and I don't want you to...to get worse and...I...I know it hurts...but...well...it's up to you really, isn't it? If...if you want...if you want to drug yourself up to the eyeballs then...that's your business..."

Remus eyed the empty bottles rather furiously and called back:

"I think I'm done taking potions, darling."

"What?"

"I said I think I'm done taking potions. We both are." the werewolf reached to half-slam the cupboard door shut in frustration as he muttered: "Because we've not got any left..." Trailing off into silence he was just beginning to consider whether or not to floo somebody for help at such an absurd time of night or simply head for the kitchen and pin his hopes on a tall glass of tap water when he heard Dora sigh heavily.

"Sweetheart...? the witch called again, and he wandered over to the doorway so that he could squint through the dim light of the sitting room at her.

"What is it, darling?"

Having given up on sitting upon the sofa, Dora was lying lengthways across it instead, gazing somewhat blankly up at the ceiling.

"I love you." she mumbled without looking round, and he padded across the carpet, dropping stiffly down to crouch at her side, wobbling unsteadily.

"Far too much, I fear." he said, reaching to sweep the hair from her eyes. "Look at the state of you, for Merlin's sake..."

"I won't give up." she mumbled vaguely, leaning into his palm as his hand came to rest against her cheek. "I won't...not 'til it kills me."

"Don't talk like that, Dora..."

"Is that...is that selfish?" she wondered, gaze at last darting down from the ceiling to peer at him through the darkness, dark eyes dull and wide. "Is it selfish if I...if I hope I die first?"

Remus' face contorted painfully at the notion, slumping forward until their foreheads were pressed together.

"Where in Merlin's name is this coming from?" he wondered, free hand trailing searchingly across her thigh until he could find her hand, lacing their fingers together. "What happened to...existing? What happened to being a...a living ghost?"

The Auror frowned a little, then she admitted:

"Well that's Plan B. If...if I don't accidentally get myself bumped off before you..."

"I don't like either plan." the werewolf admitted, and she gave a huff and informed him bluntly:

"I don't give a toss what you think about them."

"I rather thought you might say that." Remus told her, and she let out another huff, reaching to tangle a clumsy hand in his hand, pulling him closer. "You're not dying, Sweetheart." he whispered against her lips as she kissed him, and she paused to whisper back:

"I'll be dead inside without you. And that's certain if I don't compete in the final tomorrow."

"You can't compete in anything, Dora. Look at the state of..." Silenced by another kiss, he reached to pin her arms to her sides in order to free himself, rising shakily back to his feet. "I'll get you some water." he decided as she slumped back against the cushions with a groan.

Merlin, the werewolf mused as he shuffled carefully towards the kitchen, reaching to rub a hand across his throbbing temple with a sigh, he hadn't really thought about all of this, back during the War...

Hadn't really thought about being older...

Of course he had thought about being too old, he mused as he went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard and headed for the sink. He'd thought about the two of them being born in different decades, which might well have been different worlds when he'd first took time to ponder. He'd thought about being old and boring and more worldly wise, thought about her being young and exciting and a touch naïve, thought about what sort of a relationship that would add up to, thought it sounded like a bloody disaster in the making, thought he'd not be able to resist it anyway...

But he hadn't really thought about being older than Dora, about living to a ripe old age and still leaving her a widow for longer than he could really bear...

He probably hadn't thought about it like that, back then. Living to a ripe old age or even the age he was now hadn't really been part of the plan, he'd sort of expected to die there and then, he'd not have been surprised if both of them had.

And if they had both died in that final battle age wouldn't really have factored into anything at all, not if they had gone together.

And if Dora had survived without him she had only been in her mid-twenties. She'd have found somebody else at that age, she'd been perfectly young enough...

So awfully young...

And yet here they were years later, both alive, she so awfully young and yet not really young enough for him to die and leave her on her own, not really young enough to replace him with ease...

Merlin...what had he done to her?

He must have thought of it at some point, Remus thought furiously to himself as he scowled at the icy water gushing from the tap. Surely he had done, surely he wasn't stupid enough not to think it through! It wasn't bloody Ancient Runes after all, this age difference thing!

And even if it was, that wasn't really an excuse. He'd studied Ancient Runes at Hogwarts.

They hadn't really been all that tricky.

Of course he'd thought about it. Of course he had...

_Bloody hell_, the werewolf mused, frown deepening until his entire face contorted at the thought.

_You selfish bastard..._

At the sudden spray of chilly water overflowing from the top of the glass, soaking his sleeve, he jerked the glass away from the tap, dousing the front of his dressing gown in an icy splash.

Remus shivered.

Well there was always Robert to pick up the pieces, he reminded himself as he snatched up a cloth to wipe away the water dripping from the countertop down onto the tiled floor.

There would be Robert. He was sure of it.

Somehow that didn't feel comforting this time he considered it. It seemed to make his imagination run far too wild and as he turned and headed slowly back towards the sitting room he found himself imagining Robert fetching Dora water when she was ill...

In a different kitchen. Their kitchen. It was bigger and nicer than this one. The whole house was bigger and nicer and they spent less time in it because they were always disappearing off on holiday abroad to places he and Dora had only talked of as fantasy. Holidays that weren't planned around the full moon. It was a better life by far.

Remus wondered where this barrage of guilt and doubt was coming from, he hadn't felt it so fiercely in years and as he paused in the doorway to stare despairingly at Dora lying curled up upon the sofa he wondered if it might simply vanish...

It didn't really feel like it. Especially when she looked up at him and managed a rather weak smile that made him feel as if he had just been punched in the stomach.

He did his best to fix a suitably neutral expression onto his face as he went to press the glass of water into her hands, pausing to help ease her back up into a sitting position.

"Didn't you expect all this?" he found himself wondering despite himself. "Didn't you think...me being older...it was...it was bound to happen, I'd go first..."

"Not really, no." Dora admitted bleakly, sipping feebly at the water with a sniff.

"Not...not at all? Not even once? With all the...the talks we had...?"

The witch gave a stubborn huff.

"I suppose I figured work would finish me off long before anything got you." she mumbled glumly. "I mean we all die young, don't we? Aurors, I mean."

"Apparently not."

"Mm...apparently not."

"I'm terribly glad."

"Mm..." She gave yet another huff, almost a snigger, before shaking her head and mumbling: "Nothing ever goes the way I plan it, does it? Most of the time I give up trying. Except for you, of course. We went to plan in the end, didn't we? And I won't ever give up trying for you. Not when you're the only thing that went the way I wanted...you and...and Teddy...Immy..." The Auror frowned deeply as she mused: "Not that I've been the best mother in the world...I've been a bloody awful grandmother, that's for sure..."

Remus reached to prise the glass from her hand as her grip upon it began to slacken.

"You've been wonderful with Imogen." he insisted as he took a seat beside her, arm slipping round her shoulders so that he could ease the two of them back against the cushions.

"Have I?" Dora wondered dully, eyes drifting closed with a sigh. "I don't know...for starters I shouldn't let Carrie bring her over so much...not when you're ill."

"That's Carrie decision, not yours..."

"What in Merlin's name does Carrie know about anything? She reckons our granddaughter's trying to...to _kill_ you or something! The girl's off her bloody rocker..."

"Well yes, but..."

"What a thing to dream up! About your own daughter, no less! Your own little girl! If anybody's being possessed it's Carrie, Remus, not Immy or anybody else!"

"Carrie's always had a...a vivid imagination..."

"Yeah? Well she can give it a rest now, I'm getting sick of it. Ruined my...my record at work...looking at that bloody chest of...of drawers and...and I...I don't...I don't want to hear about all her...her wild theories and...and notions! She even reckons there's something going on with...with Ted and that silly Brooke girl at work! And she's not even that sure...she just...just waltzes around making these sort of...half-baked accusations, telling me I should...should start sacking people...like...like I can just do that and I...I don't know...I don't n...need any of it...I could bloody h...hex her, I...I c...ould..."

"Shh." Remus murmured, reaching to press a hand to her forehead, guiding her head towards his shoulder as her complaining had left her suddenly agitated and yet more pale. "Don't you worry about any of that. It's not important. You just need to take some time out...calm down...relax..."

As she reached to hug his arm to her chest Dora's grip was so vice-like that relaxing seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

"The room's spinning." she groaned, eyes screwed shut.

"It's not. I promise..." Remus told her, grip upon her tightening reassuringly and she slumped further against him with a sigh.

"Just...I'll just have a lie down and...and you...you go back to bed, I'll be fine..." she mumbled, face looking somewhat green-tinged. "You need sleep, love. Go back to sleep..."

"Mm..." Remus frowned, casting one last doubtful gaze over her sickly form, swiftly concluding: "Let's be honest. That'll never happen, Dora."

"Hm...?" Dora mumbled, apparently not making much effort to listen. Her voice seemed to be growing somewhat slurred, faraway...

"Sit up, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's." the werewolf decided, easing her away from him so that he could get to his feet.

Seemingly the witch heard this perfectly well, for she promptly flopped down upon the sofa, burying her face in her arms.

"No you're not..."

"I am. I'll fetch you a jumper."

"You're bloody not!" the witch challenged, giving her leg a somewhat infantile little kick. "I...I don't need to go to hospital!"

"You said you needed medicine, which is clearly true. And we don't have any..."

"I don't want to get stuck in...in some bloody hospital bed and get poked and prodded and..."

"Will that red jumper suit you?" Remus asked as he headed for the door, and she promptly raised her voice to shout after him.

"They'll insist on admitting me! They'll...they'll make me stay! I'll miss the Final tomorrow! And who's going to be here to look after you?!"

Having snatched the jumper in question up from where it had been abandoned amongst the cloaks and coats, Remus reappeared and held it out to the witch expectantly.

Dora stared at him for a long moment, expression positively poisonous.

"Remus," she tried at last when he pushed the jumper into her hands, in the firmest voice she could muster. "You're not taking me anywhere...you're in your bloody pyjamas!"

"What's your point, darling?" he asked, apparently not in the least bit fazed, and she gave a furious huff when he snatched the jumper back from her and set about pulling it unceremoniously over her head.

"You're a git." she complained, reaching to swipe a furious sleeve across her eyes, and he simply smiled and told her:

"Take my arm, then."

Dora folded her arms stubbornly across her chest.

"I'm supposed to be looking after you." she reminded him somewhat furiously. "You...you don't walk straight, your eyes are all glazed and you look like death warmed up."

"I know." her husband agreed soberly. "I feel rather like it too. It would be an awful shame if I had to resort to carrying you. I'd probably drop you at least twice between here and the fireplace."

At long last the witch consented to taking hold of his arm, but even as he began to slowly ease her up onto her feet she pleaded:

"Don't do this, love. I...they'll kick up a big fuss..."

"Good. You're a wreck. I want plenty of fuss."

"But...but the final..."

"I don't care about that."

"You'll be on your own..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dora. I'll be with you the entire time."

"But...but you need to rest! You can't be...be sat in one of those awful plastic chairs all night...you can't..."

"Watch me."

"You'll faint, love. You will, like before and...and..."

"I don't care. If I'm going to faint I think doing so in the middle of a hospital is probably the best place for it. Take the floo powder."

"Promise you'll get them to owl Teddy." Dora insisted before she would consent to scooping up a handful of powder from the pot he offered her. "Or...or Mum. Somebody...don't sit with me all night, get somebody to come...so you can at least come home."

"I'll make sure they owl Ted." Remus assured her, giving the pot of floo powder an impatient little shake.

Dora eyed the three pots in front of her and after some deliberation aimed for the middle one.

"Good." she mumbled as the two of them stumbled into the fireplace, and she was just raising her hand to throw the powder into the grate when Remus admitted:

"But I won't go home without you."

And a split second later the two of them disappeared in a roar of emerald flames.


	19. Voldemort Reincarnate

_Note: Thank you to everybody who replied to my Author's Note! I'm in a bit of a rush to post, so let me just say that I have decided that I will be writing the final story!_

_I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and that you have a fantastic New Year!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**19: Voldemort Reincarnate**

He was beginning to nod off to sleep in his seat when the noise of the double doors behind him being flung open jolted him back awake again, and as in the bed beside him Dora too awoke with a start, a voice exclaimed:

"Sweet Merlin you gave us a fright!"

Remus turned to see Teddy striding towards him, a still-sleeping Imogen bundled up in his arms and as Carrie hurried through the doors after him, the werewolf eyed the sleeping child and wondered:

"What in Merlin's name did you get Imogen out of bed for? At this time of night..."

"Yes well somebody refused to stay at home with her!" Teddy announced, sounding distinctly riled, and as Carrie drew breath to protest the Auror went on. "We thought it was you, Dad! And then when we got to reception and they said you hadn't been admitted..." His gaze darted past his father to eye the witch lying upon the bed as he exclaimed: "Look at the state of you, Mum!"

"I'm fine, Sweetheart." Dora insisted half-heartedly, and Remus corrected:

"She's drugged up to her eyeballs on Merlin knows what."

"It's like...floating..." Dora mumbled, frowning deeply, and the werewolf reached to pull the blankets more firmly around her as he suggested:

"Try and go back to sleep."

"I'm glad you're here." Dora told her son sleepily, seemingly ignoring Remus entirely. "You can do me a favour and drag Dad off home...he's being awkward...he won't leave me..."

"Give Imogen here," Remus suggested, holding out his arms, "and then you can go and fetch us some coffee. With any luck your mother will have fallen asleep by the time you get back."

Teddy carefully stooped to deposit his sleeping burden in the werewolf's lap, wincing a little when the child stirred, before heading for the doors.

"D'you want one?" he asked his wife as he passed her, but Carrie simply shook her head.

Once he had disappeared back out into the corridor, Carrie shuffled forward to perch upon the end of Dora's bed.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked her as he leant back in his chair, Imogen shifting to rest her head against his chest. "The two of you?"

"The two of _us_?" Carrie murmured, offering him a raised eyebrow.

"Yes..." Remus's gaze dropped to the child upon his lap with a small frown. "Ted seems...well..."

"He was rather frantic when the owl came and woke us." Carrie recalled simply, shrugging a little, only for the werewolf's gaze to dart somewhat disbelievingly up at her, forcing her to admit: "We...we've had a...a difference of opinion this evening, I suppose."

"A difference of opinion?"

"Yes...nothing much, just...well...about Immy, I suppose. About parenting." The muggle sighed heavily, slumping back to lean a little against Dora's legs and she paused to glance sideways to see that the witch appeared to have dosed off to sleep already. "Did that ever happen to you?" Carrie wondered after a moment, turning to look back at Remus. "Did you and Dora ever...ever disagree about...that sort of thing?"

As he rocked the sleeping girl back and forth in his arms, Remus smiled vaguely.

"Sometimes..." he recalled, pausing to stifle a yawn. "But...not as often as I had expected. I had rather assumed to begin with that we'd fight dreadfully about how Teddy ought be raised...I thought it would be some daily battle, or we'd end up with some sort of crazed, overly-liberal minded wild child..." he trailed off with a snigger before admitting: "But of course I had not counted on the fact that Dora is far more of a traditionalist than she first looks...or that I am far less of one than I even knew. We...didn't often talk about the way things ought be done. We just...did them. We never sat down to decide how...how naughty he'd be before we sent him to his room or...or how much we'd nag him about not putting his elbows on the table at dinner. We didn't always agree, mind you..."

"About what?" Carrie asked, leaning forward somewhat eagerly.

Remus gazed at the sleeping witch beside him with a frown before recalling:

"I suppose we would often disagree about..._respect_."

"Respect?"

"Yes...naturally we both agreed that it was fundamental to be brought up to respect ones parents. Equally. Or at least we agreed in principle. Dora..." Glancing at his wife again the werewolf gave a vague huff of amusement as he recalled: "In practice Dora was far more keen for Teddy to be respectful towards me than her. Ted could say some quite dreadful things to her and she would only rebuke him lightly...should he say the same to me within her earshot, however, and she would scold him something rotten! The difference didn't go unnoticed by me, or indeed Teddy, which...well it rather bothered me, I suppose."

"Why would she do that?" Carrie wondered, and Remus shook his head as he admitted:

"Because Dora has never needed any help in gaining her son's respect. She brought him into the world, she fought for him, she went out to work and provided for him, she achieves things on a daily basis that a young boy could be proud of. I, on the other hand...I nearly missed his birth, as he well knows, I was a nervous wreck of a parent when I did finally stick with him, I've relied on his mother to provide for me for the vast majority of his lifetime, Dora and I have even relied on him from a young age to help care for me when I have been ill and without a war to throw myself recklessly into I spend the vast majority of my time doing very little of note. Scolding Teddy so fiercely for even hinting at disrespect towards me is Dora's somewhat desperate attempt to make us equal as parents by drilling that respect into Teddy, because in a young boy's eyes I'm naturally far less worthy of it than she is. But of course Teddy probably knew as well as I did that that was the reasoning behind it all. Which I always felt would only highlight things and make them worse. I had an awful habit of interrupting her mid-scolding and attempting to dismiss the whole business as nothing to get so wound up about...at which point Dora would usually send Teddy to his room and we'd end up arguing furiously about it for Merlin knows how long...because of course she'd remind me that it never did to contradict one another in front of Teddy like that, and I'd remind her that it didn't do to blow things so out of proportion either."

"So...what did you do about it?" Carrie wondered, as if hoping to learn the moral of the story, but Remus simply puffed his cheeks and admitted:

"Nothing. It went on and on for years...it probably still is going on. I can't know for sure, Teddy hasn't felt the need to insult me recently."

"Would you still send him to his bedroom if he did?" Carrie sniggered, and Remus yawned widely and murmured:

"Perhaps if only to see the expression on his face when I did."

Once her amusement had worn off, Carrie sighed heavily, reaching to rest her chin in her hand as she admitted:

"I think it'll be the same with Ted and I. I don't think we're ever going to agree on this one. He thinks I'm mental."

"I doubt it." Remus mumbled sleepily, eyes drifting closed as he continued to rock Imogen back and forth.

"That's what he said earlier. He said I was _absolutely bloody mental_. I bet you never used to tell Dora she was absolutely bloody mental!"

"No...probably not..."

"Exactly!"  
>"But I daresay she's said it to me on numerous occasions."<p>

Again, Carrie managed a snigger, but before long she had let out another heavy sigh and reached to bury her face in her hands.

"Oh Merlin..." she groaned, face contorted in despair, and Remus told her:

"I'm sure it's not that bad, whatever it is."

"It is. It really is."

There was a long pause before Remus reluctantly consented to asking:

"Care to share?"

"Ted says I mustn't say anything." Carrie mumbled miserably. "He says...he says it's...well..."

"Perhaps we'd better talk about something else, then."

"Yes..." Carrie agreed, still mumbling into her hands, before asking: "What've the healers said? About Dora, I mean."

"Not a whole lot. What's to say? It's exhaustion, they hope to discharge her at some point tomorrow afternoon."

"Afternoon?!" At this, Carrie sat so bolt upright that the shift made Dora stir beside her.

"Yes." Remus agreed, apparently entirely unfazed.

"But...what about the Championship Final?!"

"What about it? It's not important, Carrie. It never was, what's important is Dora's health..."

"But she was doing so well! And if she wins..."

"She'd not stand a chance, even if she was discharged in time! The state of her..."

"But the...the money! The clinic with the medicine!"

Remus simply shook his head.

"Shh." the werewolf hissed, sighing heavily. "That's...not important, Carrie. It's...it's much too late for any of that. Look at me..."

"But that's the thing!" Carrie explained, leaping to her feet so suddenly that Dora was once again startled awake with a sharp intake of breath. "That's...that's what Ted and I were talking about...what we've been arguing about! He...he thinks I'm mad, but...but I'm not! I'm not! It's not too late, Remus! You can get better! I know it!"

"Why're we shouting?" Dora wondered rather groggily as Imogen too stirred, and Remus instantly dropped his head, lips press to the girl's ear as he whispered:

"Shh. Go back to sleep, angel."

"She's not an angel!" Carrie hissed, eyes growing quite wide with frustration. "I...I don't know what goes through that head of hers but it isn't angelic, I swear it!"

At the utterly appalled look that both grandparents instantly bestowed upon her, Carrie screwed her eyes shut and drew in a deep, calming breath.

"L...listen," she said, hands wringing together nervously. "I...I know what this is going to sound like but...but you have to...have to listen to me because Teddy...Teddy won't..."

"Oh bloody hell!" Dora groaned, face contorting wearily. "Here we go! Your granddaughter's trying to kill you, Remus! She's bloody Voldemort Reincarnate in a dress and bloody pigtails..."

"Let me finish!" Carrie snapped, only for Dora to instantly snap back:

"No! We don't want to hear it! It's bloody ridiculous and we've...we've more im...important things to...to think about..." she trailed off, eyes squeezed closed and as Remus reached to rest a soothing hand upon the witch's shoulder the muggle rounded on him, eyes imploring.

"You'll listen, won't you Remus?" she pleaded. "You'll listen to me, won't you? At least let me...let me tell you what...what I think..."

"She's away with the fairies..." Dora complained, and Carrie found that after arguing with Teddy for over an hour that evening she couldn't quite help herself from demanding:

"Oh shut up!" Attempting to ignore the increasingly livid expression on Remus' face she tried again: "Please, Remus! I've been thinking and thinking! I've thought about it for hours! It's kept me awake at night and...and when Dora found that potion stain on the duvet cover and...and I went home I found one that looked the same on one of Immy's dresses...I know! I've worked it all out! I know why you're so sick!"

"We've known that for weeks..."

"No, Dora! We haven't! So...so I saw Immy opening the chest of drawers and...and within days Remus suddenly gets more sick! And...and Immy's been so clingy! And then we find the potion stains upon the duvet and the dress! It's...it's obvious, isn't' it?! That chest of drawers! It was...it was full of potions!"

"It was empty. I told you it was empty..."

"That's because Immy took them! She took the potions! And she's been spiking Remus' drinks with them every day for weeks! She's poisoning him! If...if you had a chest of drawers crammed full of poisons you'd...you'd lock it up tight, wouldn't you?! That's why it was so difficult to open..."

"Well evidently not if you're so sure Immy opened them!" Dora shifted until she was sat up in bed, dark eyes piercing as she positively glared at the muggle. "In fact I didn't do anything complicated to open them, either!"

"What did you do?" Carrie asked, and Dora flopped furiously back against her pillows, reaching to rub her fingers against her temple as she muttered:

"Oh I don't know! I'd flung spell after spell at it and I was late back for work! And I stood back and I just thought...open! Just bloody open! I need you to open right now, I'm running out of time! And...that was it!"

"That was it?"

"Yes, that was it! They just...clicked open!"

"Well don't you think that's a bit odd?!" Carrie exclaimed, throwing up her hands exasperation, and Dora reached to press a hand over her eyes as she snapped:

"Maybe! I don't know! I don't bloody care, Carrie! It's irrelevant! What's it got to do with anything?! It's all nonsense!"

"It's not!" Carrie cried as the door behind her opened and Teddy reappeared, stopping dead in his tracks to see the two women half-shouting at one another as Imogen at last woke up, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Well if you're so bloody sure," Dora cried, hand falling back into her lap and balling into a tight fist, "why don't you run off back home and do something about it?! Meanwhile back in the real world the rest of us can just get on with making the most of what time we've got left together! As a family! Instead of waltzing around making wild and completely insane accusations that're going to do nothing except cause rows! Like this one!"

"You've gone and told them, haven't you?! I told you not to say anything!" Teddy complained, stomping forward to deposit the cups of coffee upon the bedside table, and Dora let out a somewhat hysterical half-laugh and exclaimed:

"But she did! So you can join in and shout at her too! Shout nice and loudly, won't you love?! That way the healers will hear you and they'll come and kick the lot of you out! Dad and I can have some peace and quiet!"

"Don't listen to her, Mum." Teddy insisted as on Remus' lap Imogen let out an abrupt little wail at the sudden commotion, burying her face in her grandfather's jumper. "It's a totally wild notion..."

"IT ISN'T!" Carrie shouted, reaching to grasp fistfuls of hair in agitation, and Dora reached to point at the quietly sobbing child in her husband's arms and demanded:

"LOOK AT HER! JUST LOOK AT HER! Look at your DAUGHTER, Carrie! Look at your FOUR YEAR OLD DAUGHTER and tell me that she's POISONING her GRANDFATHER!"

"That's enough!" Remus decided, rising abruptly from his chair and setting Imogen down onto her feet, causing the girl to let out a fresh sob of protest, flinging her little arms around his leg and clinging to him for all she was worth. "Go home!" Remus insisted, reaching to prise the child carefully away from him and ushering her over to her father, who promptly scooped her up in his arms. "Take that poor girl home to bed this instant! Go home and leave us!"

"Why can't you listen to me?!" Carrie complained, eyes beginning to become awash with tears, and to her despair the werewolf snapped:

"Dora doesn't need to listen to you! Dora needs to rest! Sleep! RELAX! She doesn't need you barging in here and causing such a ridiculous fuss! Can't you see she's unwell?! We're in a hospital, for Merlin's sake!"

"But..."

"How dare you come swanning in here like that when she's in such a state! For the love of Merlin! Get out! Go home! Take them home, Ted!"

There was a distinctly stunned pause as Carrie looked from Remus to Dora, then back at Remus again, and as Teddy stood hugging Imogen tightly to his chest the metamorphmagus drew a deep breath and suggested:

"Why don't we just...let's all..." he trailed off, frowning deeply before informing his father bluntly: "We're not just leaving, Dad!"

"Why not?" Remus asked flatly, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "Your mother neither needs or wants visitors. Certainly not like this."

Teddy's gaze darted briefly to his shoes before he swallowed a rather guilty lump in his throat and, looking up again wondered:

"Mum...?"

From where she lay upon the bed, scowling up at the ceiling, Dora merely screwed her eyes shut.

"What your mother thinks is irrelevant." Remus insisted without so much as a backward glance at the witch in question. "I've absolutely had enough and I'm putting my foot down!"

There was another long pause, before Teddy swallowed another lump in his throat and gave the smallest of nods.

"Right..." he mumbled, adjusting his grip upon Imogen in a distinctly business-like fashion. "Right then, come on Carrie! You heard Dad! We're leaving..."

"Dora..." Carrie began pleadingly, taking a rather uncertain step forward.

Dora's gaze dropped down to eye the muggle, her gaze distinctly icy. She blinked slowly as if waiting for Carrie to say something, but Carrie simply burst into fresh tears.

"Come on, Sweetheart." Teddy insisted, voice suddenly softening, apparently equally distressed by his parents' demeanour despite his initial agreement with them. "Let's...let's go. We're...we're all tired..."

Remus watched his son reach to grasp hold of Carrie by the arm, and once they had disappeared back out into the corridor, their cups of coffee forgotten, the werewolf waited to feel relief...

His head was throbbing so dreadfully that he felt rather as if his mind were wading through treacle. The assortment of furious outbursts had left him feeling somewhat dizzy, unsteady on his feet...

Indeed, he felt very little relief at all.

He tried to focus his mind on what ought happen next, and he turned carefully to face the bed, reaching with fumbling hands to grasp hold of the sheets...

He missed first time, grasping the front of Dora's pyjamas instead. Trying not to feel unnerved, he tried again.

"Go to sleep, darling." he insisted as he made to pull the sheets up to tuck under her chin.

"You're shaking." his wife observed, voice a pitch higher than usual, and he gritted his teeth and muttered:

"Never you mind about...about any of that..."

She halted his progression by reaching to grasp hold of his hands in both of hers, and despite the tears that had started to gather in her eyes the Auror offered him an impressively firm look.

"Let me shout for a healer or something." she said, so firm that it wasn't much of a suggestion and rather a statement of fact.

"No, I'm alright. I'm...I'm alright..."

"Then at least sit down! Before you fall down!"

Remus begrudgingly stumbled back to collapse down in the plastic chair, reaching to bury his face in his hands in an attempt to stem the waves of nausea that instantly descended.

"I'm fine." he mumbled, more for his own benefit he supposed than hers. "I really am..."

Merlin...

Had the world always seemed so...well...slanted?

Dora started to cry. Quietly, at first. Muffled as if she were pretending otherwise. As if they might shrug off all this ridiculous arguing and entirely unnecessary stress and get back to where they had been before Teddy and Carrie had arrived. Back to steeling themselves for the storm ahead, back to promising to be stronger...

It was not for several long minutes that, sniffing miserably, the witch mumbled:

"Remus...?"

"Dora."

There was a pause, before Dora wondered:

"Why...how...how could Carrie think...?"

"I don't know." Remus replied, quickly enough to make himself flinch, because quite frankly thinking about it all made his head hurt more than ever and he was sure he'd never know the answer anyway.

There was another long pause before Dora again mumbled:

"Remus...?"

"Dora...?"

At the sound of movement he forced himself to sit upright, withdrawing his face reluctantly from his hands to find her shifting over towards the edge of the bed. Slapping a weary hand down upon the space beside her, the witch mumbled:

"Come here."

As he consented to heaving himself up onto his feet and taking a few wobbly steps forward, Dora offered him a flicker of a smile.

Looking back on the evening, Remus mused as he sunk down upon the bed, it had all been utterly exhausting and downright bizarre. After all it wasn't every day somebody told you they thought your darling granddaughter was Voldemort Reincarnate!

Reaching to gather the witch beside him up in his arms, hugging her tightly as his eyes drifted instantly closed, the werewolf fervently wished he might shut out the rest of the world forever and stay just like this.

Even if within a couple of seconds she was sobbing into his chest.


	20. Nerves

_Note: This was going to be the final chapter! But I've decided to split it in half so that it wasn't ridiculously long compared to the other chapters! _

_There is mention of Meet the Muggles in this chapter, if anybody can recall that particular story! It was a long time ago now...!_

_Happy New Year to all my readers! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**20: Nerves**

He'd made several mistakes from the moment he had woken up that morning and quite frankly, Teddy Lupin mused as he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, eyes upon his shoes as he made a hasty advance down the cobbled street, this had no doubt been the most stupid one of all.

His first mistake had been getting out of bed. Because of course one could hide quite successfully from reality behind a duvet cover.

His second mistake had been attempting to make amends with his wife. Because of course making amends always led to ridiculously optimistic and unrealistic promises.

Like the one he was trying to keep now.

Keeping it was turning out to be a bloody nightmare.

"Mr Lupin!" yet another voice called somewhat desperately behind him, causing the trainee Auror to quicken his pace more than ever. "Lorna Bradstock, Witch Weekly..."

"Boris Manville, Daily Prophet..."

"Can I have a word, Mr Lupin?! Vincent Vimes of The Cauldron Chronicle..."

"Is it true, Mr Lupin?!"

"How is your mother ahead of the Final this afternoon?!"

"Was she really admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital during the night?!"

"Mr Lupin!"

Teddy's first thought was that should he drop in on his mother at some point that morning he might very well suggest suing that bloody hospital for what appeared to be a total lack of patient confidentiality.

His second thought was he had absolutely no idea how she or indeed anybody else ever dealt with being mobbed by members of the press over the National Duelling Championship and quite frankly the only phrase that sprung to mind at first was: _Sod off, all of you!_

Merlin...what if they didn't stop following him? How in Merlin's name was he supposed to go about his business in a reasonable manner with them chasing him around like a pack of wild dogs?

He reached the entrance to the dusty looking shop that he had been aiming for, pausing just outside to deliberate his next move...

If he simply continued to ignore the Quick Quotes Quill-wielding little mob behind him and went inside...

...would they actually follow him?

It probably wasn't worth the risk...

Drawing in a deep, determined breath, Teddy at last turned to face the keen bunch of assorted reporters and, in his very best impression of his mother when she felt the need to exude at least a vague sense of eminence, drew himself up to his full height, expression utterly stoic as he informed them:

"I have absolutely no desire to comment on my mother, her whereabouts, her health, the Championship, or even this morning's weather. The Deputy Head of Aurors' life is her own affair and not mine, I've not thought of the Championship even once since waking up this morning, and nobody wants to hear about the weather because that would be extremely dull. Now, please do excuse me, I'm on official Ministry business."

As he turned somewhat triumphantly to push open the shop, causing a bell to tinkle somewhere above his head, Teddy found himself musing that he had in actual fact not been on official Ministry business since working at the Muggle Liaison Office, and that he might never be on official Ministry business on behalf of the Auror Department ever if he didn't pass his exams that were fast approaching. The thought made him frown deeply. No matter what else seemed to crop up, the thought of his final examinations were a constant in Teddy's mind, always there, threatening to twist his stomach into knots...

Dora had been helpful prior to the exams at the end of his first and second years of training; she'd been constantly reassuring, optimistic, confident on his behalf. And he had always believed her, after all she had been and done it, she knew what it was like...

Since Remus had fallen ill, however, Teddy was sorely missing his mother's support. Sometimes, even when she had spent half the day stood in front of him in the Ministry's gymnasium, lecturing him about one subject or another, Teddy often felt as if Dora had forgotten his exams entirely. It had not taken long for the Auror's son to admit to himself that he had relied upon his mother's frequent reminders of her iron-clad belief that he would qualify and do so well. He suffered, not pausing to exchange the odd encouraging word when passing her in the corridors, now replaced by any news of Remus that day, or reminders of who was to be at the house keeping an eye on things with Carrie that afternoon.

Sometimes, when a day's training went badly, when he felt a lecture simply didn't make sense, or when he managed to fail a practice test of one form or another, Teddy had always felt reassured at the thought that he could drop in on Dora on his way home that night and bombard her with questions, perhaps even persuade her out into the back garden for some sort of demonstration to make things clearer. And yet he never dared bring anything of the sort to her attention these days, it simply didn't seem right. Not anymore.

And he wouldn't ask anybody else. He wouldn't ask Harry, nor Ron or any of the other Aurors. He simply couldn't. It wouldn't do.

He didn't want any of them to know when he was struggling. Absolutely not.

What would that look like? The Deputy Head of Aurors' son struggling with Auror training! Ridiculous! That's what it would look like. Teddy would look ridiculous.

He'd probably make Dora look slightly ridiculous, too.

Besides, he didn't like to stick out. Didn't like to make it obvious that he already knew many of the Aurors very well already. He didn't want to seem special compared to everybody else. There were enough jokes about nepotism and favouritism and Merlin knew what else! He couldn't stand to encourage any more!

Squeezing his eyes shut in distaste at such thoughts, Teddy made a beeline for the counter at the back of the shop, passing an array of dusty old furniture as he went, from small, rickety coffee tables to enormous elaborate dressing tables. Behind the counter he found a tall man dressed in a checkered brown suit, his hair and short beard ginger streaked with grey. The man looked up from the large ledger he was busy studying to offer Teddy a polite:

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning." Teddy greeted as he came to a halt before the counter, trying to shake off his distinctly bleak mood.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked him, setting aside the quill he had in one hand in order to fold his hands atop the ledger in a distinctly business-like manner.

"Are you Mr. Fisher?" Teddy inquired, "Mr. Archibald Fisher?"

"Aye, that would be me sir." Fisher offered the younger wizard a tip of an invisible hat. "That well known, am I?"

"I got your name from the Auror Department. I work there, you see..."

"Ministry business, is it?"

"Oh no, Mr. Fisher. I'm not qualified yet. I asked a Mr. Robert Wilde if he knew anybody who might be able to help me with something, and you were the first person that came to mind, apparently."

"Robert Wilde? Aye, I know a Robert Wilde. One of Moody's lot, wasn't he? Him and Mrs. Lupin are the last of 'em, aren't they? No wonder she's in that Championship final, eh?! Coming from a background like that, with Moody as an instructor!" Fisher seemed to puff up quite proudly as he informed his customer: "I've met her, you know. You have too, I take it? She's bloody terrifying, don't you think?! Ha! Wilde's much calmer, he's popped in here a few times over the years."

"Terrifying? How d'you mean?" Teddy asked, and Fisher let out a jolly chuckle, reaching behind him to pull a rickety wooden stool forward so that he could perch upon it.

"Oh, it was years ago now!" he recalled, grinning broadly. "But me and my wife Kathleen, we was on our way back from holiday in France..."

"Oh..." Teddy mumbled, fighting a smile for he was sure he knew what was coming next.

"...and there's this awful commotion all of a sudden! And it was her, wasn't it? She comes barrelling through the crowds at the International Floo Network in Calais, dragging some man after her! And she gives the bloke behind the desk a piece of her mind! Merlin, you should've seen 'im! 'E was shaking in 'is boots, I can tell you! She caused such a fuss one lady in front of us in the queue came over all faint and funny, she did!"

"Goodness..." Teddy murmured, attempting not to snigger before admitting: "Well I can assure you that she got into an awful lot of trouble over that, actually."

"Did she really?"

"Oh yes, it was all over the Daily Prophet and Minister Shacklebolt came over to the house and threatened to suspend her...or something of the like."

"Blimey! How'd you know all that?"

"I was there."

"You were?!"

"Oh yes, you see she's my mother. And her Death Eater captive wasn't a Death Eater at all, he was my father. And I can assure you their behaviour was entirely justified. It was a matter of life or death, as it happens!"

"Bleeding heck!" Fisher muttered, eyes wide as snitches at the notion. "And...you really fancy following in 'er footsteps, do you?"

Teddy gave a vague chuckle, reaching to scratch his chin.

"I hope to lead a slightly less hectic life than she does, actually." he admitted, very nearly sighing at the thought, before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "I wonder Mr. Fisher," he said, eyes coming to rest upon the ledger between them, "if I might be able to make an appointment with you for some time today or tomorrow? The sooner the better."

"Aye, Mr. Lupin. Would that be a home visit?"

"That's right."

"And what seems to be the problem?"

The trainee Auror puffed his cheeks, frowning deeply.

"Well..." he began rather uncertainly. "I'm...not entirely sure..."

"I see..."

"It's my wife, Mr. Fisher."

"Your...wife?"

"Yes...or rather it's this cabinet. It's in my daughter's bedroom. My wife is utterly convinced there's something dreadfully wrong with it. One of the drawers, the bottom one, it won't open...only my wife seems to think our daughter can open it. Which worries us because...well my mother took a look at and it's definitely magical. And we don't want to just leave it there without examining it...what with our little girl around."

"Of course, of course. What did your mother make of it?"

"She got it to open, but she doesn't seem entirely sure how...don't ask me how you can do something like that without even realising it, but...!"

"No, no. You'd be surprised, Mr. Lupin. You'd be surprised what we can do without realising it!"

"Yes, I'm sure. Anyway, she's been incredibly busy recently, what with...what with work and the Duelling Championship, so we haven't spoken about the cabinet much. I'm pretty sure it's beyond her, really, it's not really her area after all. All she can tell me is that it's powerful magic. So I thought I'd get a professional to look at it, to put my wife's mind at ease. And Mr. Wilde tells me you're the best, Mr. Fisher."

Fisher squinted down at his ledger, snatching up the quill to tap searchingly against the parchment until he offered:

"I could be there in half an hour, if that would suit you."

"That would suit me perfectly."

"Can I trouble you for your address then, please?"

"Certainly..."

Meanwhile, Carrie Lupin was attempting to persuade herself to keep her side of the bargain that she and Teddy had made earlier than morning.

_I'll get the cabinet looked at_, he'd suggested briskly over breakfast, _if you march yourself off down to that hospital and apologise to my parents. _

Carrie rather felt as if she had drawn the short straw here.

The muggle stood, Imogen sat fidgeting upon the plastic chair against the wall behind her, eying the doors in front of her with a deep frown. Then she took some time to frown down at the flowers that she was clutching, musing dully that in truth Dora had never really been into flowers...

Chocolates had seemed a bit stupid, mind you. Feeding ill people chocolate was never entirely wise.

Unless they were Remus...possibly...

Carrie heaved a heavy sigh, turning to glance down at the child sat behind her.

"Right then, Immy love." she said, causing the little girl to look up from a keen inspection of a scab upon one knobbly knee. "I'm just going to pop in and have a quick chat with Nana and Grandad, alright? Now you just stay here for a minute, those nice nurses over there are going to be keeping an eye on you so you'd best be good, and then in a minute I'll come and get you and you can come and say hello, give Nana the drawing you did at breakfast! Alright, Sweetheart?"

Imogen gave her a serene nod that was either a relief or simply unnerving. Carrie wasn't quite sure which.

"Excellent. I'm only going to be gone a few minutes! I'll be back before you know it!"

And with that, before she could think better of it, Carrie drew in a deep breath and reached to push the door open.

She was somewhat taken aback by the scene she came face to face with, for it seemed to be somehow opposite to that which she had seen the night before. It was Remus she found fast asleep in the bed, whilst Dora sat hunched upon the chair beside him, gaze fixated on her feet.

Carrie shuffled somewhat uncertainly forward, and at the sound of her approach Dora glanced round at her, only to go back to staring at the floor.

"He took a turn for the worst during the night." the Auror informed her daughter-in-law dully as the muggle came to a halt just behind her.

"Oh..." Carrie mumbled a little numbly, only to flinch a little when Dora muttered:

"_Oh_ indeed!"

Carrie instantly felt rather as if she were intruding, but nevertheless she drew in a deep breath and began:

"Listen, Dora...about...about last night..."

She was interrupted by Dora letting out a distinctly hollow chuckle as she straightened up, dark eyes utterly humourless as she turned to ask:

"I tell you he's worse than ever and...you want to just _talk about last night_?"

"No! No, Dora, no...that's...that's my whole point. Let's just...let's just put it all behind us! Remus was right...it's...it's not the time to be fighting with each other, is it? We all need to stick together." Stepping sideways Carrie reached to hold the flowers out for the witch to take, adding meekly: "Here...these...these are for you."

The witch accepted the flowers without thanks, though she reached to run a finger over one velvety petal before explaining:

"They've discharged me, told me to go home and rest. They say I'm not fit to compete this afternoon."

"What're you going to do?" Carrie wondered, and Dora's gaze came to rest upon Remus in the bed for a moment before she buried her face in the bouquet, inhaling deeply. There was a sizeable pause before the Auror finally looked up at the muggle, expression abruptly fierce.

"I'm going to ignore them." she said.

Carrie swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Is that...wise?"

The witch simply huffed irritably, and Carrie felt quite convinced that she was still not entirely forgiven.

"Being wise has nothing to do with it." Dora muttered, dropping the bouquet down into her lap.

"Yes, but is it even vaguely sensible?"

"I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?"

Dora sighed heavily, reaching to rub a weary hand across her eyes before she wondered aloud:

"What in Merlin's name do you know about being sensible, Carrie?"

Carrie stared down at the Auror as she felt her face reddening. In contrast, Dora looked ghostly pale, two half-hearted blotches of colour upon her cheeks the only true improvement that Carrie could visibly tell from the night beforehand. Carrie could not imagine her being discharged to begin with, let alone competing in just a few hours time.

"I'm sorry." Carrie mumbled, more about the previous evening than anything else, and finding anything more apologetic too difficult she offered: "I've brought Imogen to see you. She's drawn you a picture. Shall I...shall I go and fetch her?"

Dora merely sighed heavily, reaching to discard the flowers upon the small bedside table, but nevertheless Carrie turned on her heel and made a beeline for the door.

No sooner had she stepped out into the corridor, Carrie jumped a little when a voice beside her inquired:

"How is she?"

Turning to find herself face to face with a short, podgy witch dressed in green healers robes, Carrie managed a vague chuckle and replied:

"I suppose you mean _he_? Aren't you supposed to tell me that?"

The healer scowled, folding her arms across her chest with a huff.

"If I were talking about _him_ I'd probably be asking you if he was still with us." she said, gesturing to the door with a jerk of the head. "No, I mean the Deputy Head of Aurors. How is she?"

"Better, I suppose..." Carrie mumbled uncertainly, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in her stomach at such a harsh assessment of Remus' condition. "You've discharged her, after all..."

The healer tutted, turning to the desk behind her to snatch up a clipboard.

"You won't find my signature on her discharge papers!" she announced, sounding somewhat offended, and as she reached to yank a piece of parchment free from the clipboard Carrie asked:

"What do you mean?"

"Went and discharged herself, didn't she?! As soon as her husband got carted off to be looked at this morning! He's been asleep ever since, won't wake up for anything, so there's been nobody to talk some bloody sense into her!"

"Oh Merlin..." Carrie muttered, and with that she turned to fling the door back open, exclaiming:

"Oh, Dora! Really...!"

"Mummy!"

Imogen's voice halted the muggle's progress in it's tracks and she was forced to turn around, smothering her despair with a bright smile.

"There you are, Im! Goodness me, have you been sitting there all this time? Good as gold?! Just you wait until we tell Nana Dora, won't she be impressed?!"

No sooner had Imogen hopped down from her chair, Carrie had swept across the corridor to scoop the child up into her arms, for she suddenly felt herself with the need to cling to something.

"You're squashing Nana's picture, Mummy!" Imogen protested, and Carrie hastily set the girl back down upon her feet with a sniff.

"Am I? I'm sorry, love. Come on, let's go and...and give Nana her picture before I squash it any more..."

They entered the room just in time to see a silvery light shoot off through the wall opposite and Carrie's gaze lingered curiously upon the wall as Imogen instantly ran full pelt across the room. Dora had barely shoved the wand into her pocket when the little girl reached her, flinging her arms around her with an excited little shriek, and Carrie watched the Auror suck in a deep, composing breath...

"Hey Sweetheart!" the witch exclaimed, throwing her arms around the child with such enthusiasm that for the briefest moment Carrie felt somewhat relieved at the cheer. "What's this, then? Is this for me?! How wonderful! Look at all those colours! I don't think I've ever seen so many colours on one sheet of parchment in all my life!"

Carrie went to perch upon the edge of the bed and watched the extremely detailed and excitable examination of the drawing unfold before her eyes, and she felt as if the grim atmosphere had lifted a little...

And yet the more detailed and elaborate and indeed downright silly Dora's observations became, causing the child who had clambered into her lap to giggle, the tighter the witch's grip upon her granddaughter grew.

Until Imogen was giggling hysterically.

And Dora was clinging on for dear life.

A little over half an hour had passed when the door opened again to reveal a new visitor, and as Dora paused in her cheery telling of one tall tale or another she turned to look over towards the door.

"Got your message, Tonks." Harry Potter announced, holding up what appeared to be a small portable radio up for his friend's inspection, and Dora let out a sigh of relief and told him:

"You're a wonder, did you know that?"

Harry strode across the room towards them, reaching to set the radio down beside the bouquet of flowers as he murmured:

"How is he?"

Dora reached to slide Imogen down from her lap so that she could rise stiffly to her feet.

"They can't seem to wake him up." she whispered into her fellow Auror's ear, almost too quiet for Carrie to catch, and Harry pursed his lips tightly together, pulling the glasses from his face so that he could rub his eyes.

"Merlin..."

"You're not...busy are you?" Dora asked worriedly as she set about straightening her robes. "I mean you don't mind missing the final, do you? It's just...well Teddy's required to watch it and...and I didn't want to leave Remus on his own. And well...you're the first person I thought of..."

"It's fine, honestly." Harry murmured. "But...the thing is, Tonks...it's just..."

"I could stay." Carrie offered when he trailed off into silence, and she felt somewhat stung when Dora simply muttered:

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Harry wondered as Dora went to fiddle with the knobs upon the front of the radio, causing it to crackle into life. "It's alright, you know. People would understand..."

"You reckon Valbona Luga would be understanding?" Dora laughed as she finally settled upon what appeared to be some kind of news report, and Harry fidgeted in frustration and asked:

"When did you start giving a toss what Valbona bloody Luga thinks about anything?!"

"It's fine, Harry." Dora insisted, reaching to turn up the volume of the radio until it was unreasonably loud. "I'll be fine. Make sure he's listening, won't you? Coverage starts in about an hour..."

"Tonks..."

"If Imogen needs the toilet you'd better get one of the healers to take her, I don't want him left for a second..."

"Yes, but..."

"What're you talking about?" Carrie interrupted, utterly baffled. "I'll take Imogen home with me..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Dora said again, and Carrie drew breath to retort, only to pause when at long last the witch turned to offer her the least hostile expression she had seen all morning. "You're coming with me, aren't you Carrie?" the Auror said, sounding quite agitated at the notion that she might decline. "I...it'd be...you know..." she gave a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes at herself a little as she tried again: "I'd rather not be on my own."

Nerves, Carrie finally realised.

Dora was awash with them.

And at long last Carrie felt as if she had been forgiven.

"Right then..." the muggle decided, hastily moving to drop a kiss atop Imogen's head. "Let's...let's go!"

And with that Dora went to grasp hold of Remus' hand, leaning to press a firm kiss to the sleeping wizard's brow.

"Listen, Remus." Carrie heard her whisper, free hand reaching to run a careful finger across his cheek. "Just you listen, my love. I'm going to wake you up..."


	21. The Final

_Note: And here we are at the final curtain! I hope it all becomes at least vaguely clear! It should do...possibly!_

_Thank you to everybody who has reviewed this story, I hope that you have been enjoying it! _

_Along with this final chapter being posted you will also find a one shot entitled **Meet the Fiancee**, followed by the first chapter of the last chaptered fic in this series: **Meet the Squib**. _

_Thank you to **Trixie** for plotting with me! It's always good fun! :-)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

**21: The Final**

"Fascinating, simply fascinating..."

Teddy Lupin was quite certain that he had never been more bored in his entire life. He glanced over at the clock upon his daughter's bedroom wall and frowned deeply at how late it was becoming.

Archibald Fisher had been crouched on the floor for the past hour, tapping every inch of the cabinet with his wand and fist, pressing his ear to the wood and peering at it curiously through an assortment of magnifying glasses of varying size and thickness. Thus far he had declared the object of intrigue to be fascinating on no less than twenty three occasions, but as of yet had apparently not discovered anything else about it of note.

At long last Fisher rose to his feet, knees clicking in a way that made Teddy want to wince, before straightening his jacket in an almost solemn fashion and turning to inform Teddy:

"Well, Mr. Lupin, what you have here is something very extraordinary indeed."

"Oh?" Teddy said, sitting a little straighter, only to almost bite through his tongue in exasperation when Fisher said:

"Yes, indeed! It's utterly fascinating!"

"Is it really?" Teddy wondered, very nearly sighing, only to suddenly pay more attention again when Fisher explained:

"Aye, it's extremely rare. I would wager there's only been a dozen of them ever made!"

"What is it?" Teddy asked, leaning forward rather keenly to eye the cabinet once again, and Fisher grinned broadly.

"It's what we call an Gellert Guard."

"A..._Gellert Guard_...?"

"That's right, Mr. Lupin. Named after Gellert Grindelwald, no less!"

"Then my mother was wrong?" Teddy said, leaning back a little in alarm at the name. "It _is_ a Dark object?"

"I wouldn't say she was wrong, no. I daresay the original owner of this piece of furniture was a less than savoury character! But in itself it is not associated with dark magic at all." Fisher reached to run a hand across the polished top of the cabinet, almost as if he were stroking it. "It is of European origin, probably made in late late 1930s, and likely belonged to one of Gellert Grindlewald's most loyal and trusted followers. It is, put simply, a place to store poisons."

"Poisons...?"

"Grindelwald's most trusted followers would have a Gellert Guard in any home which Grindelwald and others would use as a safe house, and should they ever be raided by Aurors with no chance of escape, Grindelwald's instructions to many required them to open their Gellert Guard, in which they would find enough poison to take both their lives and that of any other family members living in the house."

"They'd all commit suicide?"

"To protect Grindelwald's secrets! That is precisely what they did, Mr. Lupin. Of course the makers knew that the contents of the cabinets could be extremely dangerous and to make sure that this last resort only ever occurred as exactly that, an enchantment was placed upon each cabinet in order to seal it closed until the correct moment occurred."

"What opens it?" Teddy wondered, and Fisher turned to offer the younger wizard a somewhat dark look as he murmured:

"Desperation, Mr. Lupin. Pure desperation."

_"What did you do?" Carrie asked, and Dora flopped furiously back against her pillows, reaching to rub her fingers against her temple as she muttered:_

_"Oh I don't know! I'd flung spell after spell at it and I was late back for work! And I stood back and I just thought...open! Just bloody open! I need you to open right now, I'm running out of time! And...that was it!"_

_"That was it?"_

_"Yes, that was it! They just...clicked open!"_

And Teddy felt his heart begin to race in his chest.

"Poison?" he said again, hands grasping fistfuls of duvet in panic. "They kept poison in there?"

"That's right. Bloody nasty stuff, I should imagine!"

"How...how much...?"

"That's difficult to say. But..._enough_, I should think!"

Teddy's blood ran utterly cold.

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed. "Please, please, please..."

Fisher turned to offer him a questioning look, but Teddy ignored him, still muttering to himself as he got hurriedly to his feet and bolted for the door.

"_Please don't let it be that. Please let it have been empty like Mum said. Please don't let Carrie be right..._"

Carrie stood leaning against the brick wall, watching silently as Dora glided back and forth around the garden, reciting instructions to herself as she went.

"Block, left right, duck, right...left step, attack..."

"Stanislavian Dip!" Carrie shouted, and offered the Auror enthusiastic applause when she obediently dropped downwards, wand thrust towards the floor before flicking it neatly upwards, and to Carrie's surprise the witch promptly spun round to face the muggle, letting out a shout of laughter.

"I'm glad I've got you." Dora confessed somewhat breathlessly once she had sobered. "Even after everything...I'm glad you're here. I'd never make it to the arena without you."

Carrie supposed this was probably true. Since flooing back to Remus and Dora's house, Carrie had made the Auror lunch, stood over her until she had cleared the plate, lain out her duelling clothes upon the bed whilst Dora had showered, made a cup of tea, coaxed the quietly sobbing witch out of the bathroom with a box of tissues, and shouted countless warnings about the time whilst Dora had dressed and disappeared out into the garden for some last minute practice.

"Don't tire yourself out before you've even gotten there." Carrie said as the Auror shuffled back towards the house. "We've got to get a move on, anyway. If we don't you'll be late and Jasmine'll have my head on a stick!"

They spoke quite cheerily and jokingly about what was to come as they left the house and apparated to the arena, hurrying through the crowds with a few sniggers as Dora ducked her head in an attempt to avoid being recognised by the swarming crowds. And yet when they made it to the side door leading to the team locker rooms where they planned to bid one another farewell, Dora's humour instantly vanished.

"Bloody hell..." the British Duelling Champion muttered, reaching to lean heavily against the wall for a moment, eyes screwed shut as she drew in a deep breath.

"What is it?" Carrie asked, glancing around them somewhat nervously to see if anybody was watching, though the people queuing for the stands were too busy chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

Dora gave a somewhat jittery chuckle.  
>"I don't know, Carrie." she muttered, shaking her head. "I'm not sure I can do this..."<p>

Carrie drew breath to remind her that it was never too late to back out, but found the words stuck in her throat.

Because Dora would never forgive herself, the muggle realised, if she backed out now...

"Of course you can do it!" she insisted instead, reaching to grasp hold of Dora's arm, giving her a firm shake. "You're the British Duelling Champion, Dora! You're...you're one of Moody's Minions! You've been an Auror longer than half the Albanian team put together and...and you've got something more worthwhile than a pot of gold to fight for! Now...now go on! Get in that arena and...and show that insufferable Albanian woman how to duel properly! Remus is listening! So don't screw it up!"

For a moment Dora stood motionlessly, eyes still closed, and then she sighed heavily, managing the smallest of smiles.

"When did you grow up and become me?" she wondered, shaking her head disbelievingly, and with that she reached to pull the muggle into a tight one-armed hug, only for a voice in the crowd to call her name at the top of their lungs.

"NYMPHADORA!"

"That bloody name..." Dora muttered as she and Carrie drew apart in time to see a crowd of Aurors and Auror cadets flooding through the entrance to the stands, one familiar face waving wildly at them.

"KICK LUGA'S ARSE!" Robert Wilde demanded enthusiastically, and Dora shot him an exasperated look, only for hundreds of heads to turn in her direction...

"It's her!"

"Look!"

"It's our Champion!"

"She's come!"

"Over there, look!"

Dora instantly winced, and Carrie reached to give her a firm push towards the side door.

"Go on! Go!" the muggle demanded as the excited calls grew even louder, and with that Dora turned and fled out of sight.

Failing to spot Teddy amongst the Auror cadets, Carrie instead caught sight of the unmistakable black and orange cloaks of those members of the Order of the Phoenix who had congregated low in the stands, and the muggle managed to push her way through the crowds until she was sat just behind them. From her chosen seat Carrie had a clear view of the arena below, it's set up more simple than at any time before it: two long benches were set against opposite walls at either end of the arena, whilst the middle was dominated by a large duelling platform with steps at either end. Each end of the arena had been elaborately decorated in the team colours of Albania and Great Britain respectively, each country's flag emblazoned across a back wall. It seemed that in no time at all the familiar figure of the commentator had stepped out onto the arena floor and his booming voice started the proceedings.  
>"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen! The National Duelling Association welcomes you to this, the most anticipated day of all, the Final of this year's National Duelling Championship!"<p>

The crowd screamed and cheered with wild enthusiasm, yet as they stomped their feet and waved their flags and banners in the air, Carrie sat utterly still and silent in her seat.

"Without further ado! Please welcome the National Duelling Team of Albania!"

The British supporters booed enthusiastically as the names of the Albanian duellers were announced, but as the Albanians filed out into the arena the crowd's reaction grew utterly venomous as the commentator called:

"And finally please welcome their team captain and Albanian Duelling Champion! Valbona Luga!"

Carrie watched, her stomach twisting into knots as Valbona Luga stomped out into the arena, expression distinctly sour at her hostile reception. She came to stand centre of Albanian team as they lined up along one side of the arena, and as the dueller beside her raised a hand to wave to the small cluster of Albanian supporters opposite them, Luga reached to yank his arm back down to his side with a scowl.

"And now! Please welcome the National Duelling Team of Great Britain!"

As their names were read out the British Aurors strode into the arena, waving cheerfully at the crowd and smiling broadly as they lined up opposite their sullen opponents. Hale Grover seemed to pause in his waving to make adjustments to his hair, whilst beside him Carrie had the feeling that Jasmine Wickes had dyed her red hair a couple of shades brighter for the occasion.

"Finally please welcome the captain of the British team and British National Duelling Champion, Nymphadora Lupin!"

The crowd went ballistic, whooping and cheering for all they were worth...

For a long moment, Dora simply did not appear.

Carrie thought her heart might stop dead in her chest in panic...only at last for Dora to step out into the arena.

The British Champion shuffled forward, her gaze upon her shoes, only for Jasmine Wickes to leap backwards towards her, grabbing hold of her by the hand so that she could fling Dora's arm up into the air with a cheer, causing the crowd to let out a fresh scream of excitement.

_Look up!_ Carrie silently pleaded, fidgeting anxiously in her seat. _For goodness sake, look up!_

Dora finally consented to look up at the cheering crowds, and to Carrie's relief the Deputy Head of Aurors offered her supporters an utterly beaming smile, thrusting her free hand up into the air too, before yanking her hand free from Jasmine so that she could give an exaggerated twirl to beam up at those sitting behind her, too. The British Aurors all laughed somewhat raucously and Burton Hayes reached to slap a hefty hand down onto the champion's shoulder.

Did she stumble?

Carrie blinked.

No. Of course not.

Carrie felt her confidence begin to slowly grow as, nervous entrance somewhat forgotten, she heard Dora call her team to attention with a sharp:

"Eyes front!"

The two teams stood, neatly lined up opposite one another, staring at each other somewhat steely.

"The Champions will now shake hands." the commentator announced.

_Of course here at the WWN we have yet to hear a statement from St. Mungo's regarding the rumours, but it would appear that they may well be false! Now the two champions step forward to shake hands..._

Harry was jolted back to reality, cursing the nighttime raid that had stolen most of his sleep the previous night, at the sound of the door being flung open and Teddy's voice exclaimed:

"Harry! Where's Imogen?!"

"Shh! She's right here!" Harry exclaimed, waving a vague hand in the direction of where Imogen lay curled up upon the bottom of Remus' bed. "What're you doing here?! Never mind, the champions are shaking hands, listen..."

_...and that looks like an extremely firm handshake to me..._

As she watched Luga attempt to crush Dora's hand and possibly break a finger or two in the process, Carrie very nearly sniggered at the smile that the British Champion offered the half-giant, even though she supposed it might very well have been a grimace.

"I can't believe you let her go!" Teddy muttered in disbelief as he and Harry clustered around the little radio, utterly transfixed by the broadcast and somewhat lost the the world, and Harry simply insisted:

"Be quiet, you'll ruin it..."

_And now the two teams take their positions upon their benches, lined up in order of who will duel first, down to whoever will duel last. They'll no doubt have been discussing this for a very long time indeed...very tactical decision because of course to win they must be the last team with a dueller standing! Duel after duel...it requires stamina! Let's see how they arrange themselves..._

Quite arrogantly, Carrie thought, Luga planted herself directly at the front of the Albanian line, seemingly unconcerned by the rest of her team squabbling over places behind her. Meanwhile, over on the British bench young Albert Diggory had taken the first seat, whilst Dora, much to Carrie's relief, had placed herself last.

And before Carrie knew it the judge had been introduced into the arena and he was summoning Luga and Albert up onto the duelling platform.

Suddenly, watching the young, fresh faced wizard who looked little old enough to be out of Hogwarts face up to the gigantic Luga who had knocked out or injured every opponent that Carrie had ever seen her face, Carrie felt suddenly sick.

The Blue Eyed Bertie chant was being bellowed from all around the arena as Diggory and Luga bowed to one another, and as they turned their backs and began to walk slowly apart Carrie felt suddenly tempted to clamp her hands over her ears and screw her eyes shut.

Instead she looked over towards the British bench, picking out Dora sat next to Jasmine at one end, her head bowed but her gaze peering up at the dreadful spectacle through her mousy fringe.

Carrie cast her eyes along the bench in an attempt to bolster her spirits, looking at each Auror in turn, all Dora's protectors. If the Albanians were to win, they'd have to get through the British team first; the wild firebrand that was Jasmine Wickes, oozing confidence and deadly aggressive, before her Xander Pikket, quiet and unassuming yet an utter wealth of perfect technique. After Pikket came Hale Grover whose defences the Daily Prophet claimed were impossible to breach, and then Burton Hayes who was eying the opposing team like a bulldog chewing on a wasp...

Carrie felt somewhat better.

Until just a few minutes into the first duel Luga sent Albert Diggory spiralling off the side of the platform to land with such force upon his back that he cracked his head with an audible thump and was instantly out stone cold.

As Luga let out a war-like shriek of triumph and Carrie's gaze darted back to see the British team's reaction, the commentator announced over the crowd's noisy disapproval:

"And so that duel goes to Albanian champion Valbona Luga, who defeats Britain's Albert Diggory, leaving Britain with five duellers to Albania's six!"

The British duellers were all muttering darkly to one another, all except for Dora who was staring motionlessly at her shoes. As a team of mediwizards came sprinting out into the arena to deposit Albert Diggory on a stretcher, the commentator announced:

"Please welcome Britain's second dueller, Burton Hayes!"

Burton Hayes appeared up on the platform so suddenly that he might very well have apparated. Luga's lazy bow was met with Hayes' equally sloppy nod of the head and the two of them stomped away to take their positions. The crowd let out a shout of approval when, as soon as the duel had started, Hayes lurched forward and struck Luga in the shoulder with a hex, and for a second Carrie thought the Albanian might just drop her wand...

But within the blink of an eye Luga had retaliated and the two set about a furiously aggressive duel that went on for nearly five minutes when...

_...and oh no! That's Hayes out of the final with a stunner directly to the chest! Is he conscious? We're not sure...he's twitching...no. No, that's Burton Hayes out cold, leaving Britain with four duellers left and Albania still sporting six!_

Teddy was forced to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from swearing in frustration, but beside him Harry failed not to let out a shout of fury...

_Smash!_

At the sound of shattering glass, both Teddy and Harry spun around towards the source of the noise, and Teddy felt as if he'd just taken a bludger to the chest to find Imogen poised at her grandfather's bedside, frozen in panic at the glass littering the floor at her feet.

At the sight of both Harry and Teddy staring at her with wide eyes, tears sprung to the little girl's eyes and she instantly dissolved into tears as Teddy hurried over to peer down at the steadily pooling colourless liquid upon the floor.

"What's that, Im?" Teddy asked as his daughter turned to throw herself at the bed, burying her face in her grandfather's side.

"Water, surely?" Harry murmured as Teddy made to stoop to examine the smashed glass, only to pause, gaze fixated upon the side of his father's head.

At the sight of crimson slowly seeping from the werewolf's ear, leaving an ugly stain upon the pillow, Teddy felt his mouth go dry as he raised a shaky hand to point at it.

"Harry..."

"I'll get someone!" Harry decided as soon as he had spotted the blood, and with that he turned and sprinted for the door just as over the radio Hale Grover's approach to the platform was announced.

"Imogen, look at me!" Teddy insisted, reaching to prise the girl away from the bed, turning her round to face him. "Look at me...tell...tell me. Tell Daddy what you were doing...I...I'm not...I'm not angry just...tell me..."

But Imogen simply screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head vigorously.

"Tell me, Imogen!" her father demanded, increasingly agitated as out in the corridor they heard Harry shouting for assistance at the top of his lungs. "Tell me what you...tell me what you've done to Grandad!"

And as the doors were flung open and a trio of healers came bolting into the room mere seconds later, forgotten in the background Hale Grover offered Valbona Luga a stiff bow.

Hale Grover's approach to the platform had, Carrie saw, been a somewhat delayed one. Britain's next dueller had turned back to mutter rapidly to Xander Pikket beside him, and as Burton Hayes' twitching form had been lifted carefully onto another stretcher, Grover had gone to crouch upon the floor just before Dora, reaching to grasp hold of her by the hands in order to get her attention.

Carrie had watched the British Champion reluctantly look up from her continuous inspection of her boots, and after a rapid word or two from Grover, Dora had glanced past him to where Luga stood upon the platform, sneering somewhat as her latest victim was carried away. Carrie had watched Dora give Grover's hands a firm shake, muttering something under her breath. The two British duellers had nodded to one another, and with that Grover stood up, offered his captain a mock-salute, before turning on his heel and striding purposefully towards the platform.

It seemed to Carrie that Hale Grover had no intention of attacking Valbona Luga.

For two, three, five, eight minutes the British dueller ducked, dodged and deflected the Albanian's attacks, not once making to retaliate. Luga's attacks became increasingly frustrated as she flung spell after spell at him, her face growing pink and furious as she drew back her wand with a sharp intake of breath and bellowed at the top of her lungs:

"FIGHT BACK, COWARD!"

And yet as she sent another hex streaking through the air towards him, Grover darted sideways to avoid it and refused to attack at all.

Was Luga...getting breathless?

No, surely not. It seemed...impossible, Carrie thought dully...

And yet if Luga wouldn't grow breathless, Hale Grover would not be hit...

The Albanian champion was growing visibly furious. Carrie wasn't sure whether this made her feel better or worse...

She promptly decided on worse when Grover overbalanced dodging one spell, only to stumble straight into the path of a second...

And as Hale Grover became the next British dueller to be flung backwards onto the floor, a slashing hex drawing a sickening burst of blood from his shoulder as he landed flat on his back, at St. Mungo's Teddy Lupin was attempting to ignore both the radio and the babbling cluster of healers around the hospital bed as they tried to stem his father's bleeding, in order to grasp his daughter firmly by the shoulders and demand one last desperate time:

"For the love of Merlin, Imogen! TELL ME!"

Positively trembling with tears, Imogen reached to clamp her hands over her eyes as she complained:

"I...I wished Grandad...I wished Grandad better, Daddy!"

"How? How did you wish him better?! Tell me, Imogen..."

The girl let out a gurgled sob, rocking anxiously back upon her heels.

"Grandad fell down, Daddy! Grandad fell down and it made Nana cry!"

_Is there's any hope for Britain in this final? We're beginning to wonder...and here comes Xander_ _Pikket!_

"I went to bed and I...and I wished! I wished and wished, Daddy!"

_Slight delay occurring here in the stadium as they mop up the blood from the floor...what's going through Pikket's mind right now, do you think? Such focus on his face..._

"I said please don't let Grandad fall anymore! Pretty, pretty please!"

_Merlin, look at the state of Grover, he'll feel that in the morning! And up comes Pikket, ready to take on the Albanian Champion! The two duellers bow to one another..._

"I wanted Grandad never to fall, not ever again! I was _desperate_, Daddy!"

_The duellers take their final positions..._

"And...and then the drawer slid open, Daddy! And that's where I...f...found it!"

_And there off! Nice dodge there by Xander Pikket! _

"Medicine, Daddy! To make Grandad better!"

…_.sloppily deflected by Luga..._

"I wished and wished and it came, Daddy! So I took the medicine and...and I...and I gave Grandad a little..."

_Oh! Great hex there by Xander Pikket, that's one nasty gash Luga's sporting there, very nasty indeed! AND AGAIN! Xander Pikket of Great Britain gets a double strike on Albania's champion!_

"_I put it in his dinner. Like Mummy puts medicine in my juice because it tastes yucky."_

_Is Luga flagging? I'd say so, she's...oh! Merlin, what an end! Valbona Luga knocks out Xander Pikket with a snapping cursed to the leg! I'm sorry to say that leg looks broken to me! In several_ _places I'd wager...what a terrible shame, after such a promising start!_

"But it wasn't working, Daddy! Grandad wasn't getting better!"

_Albania have yet to lose a single dueller, and it's left now to Jasmine Wickes and British Champion Nymphadora Lupin to face up to these dreadful odds! The question on all our lips: Will Luga go an entire championship without losing a single duel?! I daresay Jasmine Wickes'll have a thing or two to say about that! And here she comes!_

"I tried to check his pulse. Like Uncle Timothy says they do on the television. But it didn't work so I gave him some more medicine in his drink..."

_Yes, up comes Jasmine Wickes, one of just two of Great Britain's duellers remaining! Will she beat Valbona Luga and give us a fighting chance?! Wickes and Luga step forward to bow..._

"But Grandad got worse, Daddy! The medicine wasn't working! Everybody would be so cross! So, so cross!"

_And they're off! Come on Jasmine! You can do it! The crowd have gone wild and it's Jasmine Wickes of Great Britain versus the infamous Valbona Luga of Albania! Look at the speed! _

"And now Grandad's in hospital, Daddy! I'm very, very scared..."

_OUCH! That looked painful! Luga strikes Wickes in the knee, she stumbles and...look at that! One...two...three! Three strikes! Three strikes by Jasmine Wickes! What brilliant retaliation..._

"But don't worry, Daddy! Don't worry! Grandad is going to be better soon!"

_That's another stumble from Wickes, that knee will be causing her some discomfort I imagine...but she's struck Luga again! What a hit! The Albanian stumbles..._

"I know it, Daddy! I know he'll be better! Because it's all gone now!"

_Luga ducks and...NO! _

"The medicine's all gone..."

_Jasmine Wickes of Great Britain is sent flying by Luga, right across the arena! It's over! Luga wins again!_

"Grandad's had it all! I gave him the last of it and now he'll be better!"

_And it has come down to this, listeners! Our champion alone! It's Nymphadora Lupin of Great Britain...versus the Albanian National Duelling team! Well Merlin help her, I say!_

Imogen's eyes grew wide in alarm as she whispered:

"Grandad _will_ be better now, won't he Daddy?"

Teddy thought he might just faint.

Silence fell over the arena.

Carrie could have heard a pin drop.

Even the commentator seemed to hesitate. He cleared his throat loudly before finally calling:

"Um...that's Albania with six duellers remaining and...and Great Britain with..._one_."

Not a soul said a word.

Carrie's gaze darted towards the British bench, where a lone figure was sitting, gazing somewhat blankly as she watched her last teammate being carried out of the arena...

Valbona Luga let out a deep, mocking shout that echoed around the silent arena as she called:

"See?! I CRUSH YOU!"

Carrie felt sick to the stomach as she watched Dora reach to bury her face in her hands, bent over until her head was resting in her lap as Luga shouted taunt after taunt, only drowned out when the commentator called:

"Please welcome British Duelling Champion Nymphadora Lupin to the floor."

A scattering of uncertain claps sounded, but for the most part the crowd remained mute.

Dora didn't move.

There was a very long pause before the commentator called:

"Mrs Lupin...if you please...?"

Dora remained frozen still.

Carrie felt panic seizing her, making her tense from head to toe and yet the muggle forced herself up onto her feet, grasping the back of the chair in front of her to keep herself from wobbling as she drew in a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs:

"GO ON DORA! HE'S LISTENING!"

Around her the Order of the Phoenix broke out into shouts of encouragement until the entire arena joined in, a swell of noise that rose so loud that it might just have raised the roof...

And yet Dora seemingly did not hear a thing.

"COWARD!" Luga jeered, pointing an accusing finger. "YOU NOT FACE ME, NO?! I CRUSH YOU LIKE BUG!"

Minutes dragged on and yet Dora still failed to move, and Carrie had all but given up hope as she stared desperately down at the Auror...

At long last, Dora looked up.

The cheering instantly faded until the arena was once again silent.

And thousands of pairs of eyes watched with bated breath as the British Champion rose slowly to her feet.

She reached to draw her wand, and for a moment stood gazing around at the vast sea of people, until at last her eyes came to rest upon Valbona Luga.

Her approach to the raised platform was slow and rather stumbling and she paused again at the bottom of the steps, drawing in such a deep breath that Carrie swore she could hear it from the stands...

And so it was that Dora Lupin strode with sudden purpose up the steps and down the platform until she was stood just before Valbona Luga, forced to look upwards to meet the giant woman's gaze.

"Bow, please." the judge intoned grandly, and whilst Luga merely twitched her head, Dora sunk into a deep bow.

As the two champions turned to walk back down the platforms, Carrie wondered quite how Dora found the nerve to move, how she could sit there upon the bench, watching each of her teammates crash to the floor one after one, dropping like flies...

And yet as she turned to face her opponent, raising her wand, Dora Lupin did not so much as flinch...

"Begin!"

Both Aurors leapt into action, and Carrie found herself grasping fistfuls of hair in her hands as they flung spell after spell at one another, dodging and deflecting until quite suddenly there came a sudden intake of breath from the crowd...

Valbona Luga stumbled, Dora's hex having struck her upon the thigh, and she swipe her wand up to deflect Dora's second attack, only for it to hit her square in the chest, causing a sudden shout of approval from the crowd.

Luga promptly sent a barrage of hexes flying back towards Dora, who managed to deflect them one by one, and things seemed to Carrie to be going well...

Luga's latest curse caught Dora's wrist and the entire crowd shrieked in horror to see the British champion's wand instantly begin to slip from her grasp as the curse left the bones in her wrist to splinter...

Back in the hospital Dora's potential end to the Duelling Championship was being entirely ignored.

"Send for Healer Jones!" one of the healers bent over the bed demanded of the colleague standing beside her as Teddy and Harry looked on in sheer horror, Imogen hiding behind Teddy's legs. "His heart's about to stop..."

In the arena, her face contorting in pain, Dora's free hand suddenly whipped up to grasp hold of the wand just as she dropped her now injured arm to her side, and within the blink of an eye she had taken fresh aim at Luga with her wand in her left hand, sending a barrage of hexes flying across the arena, and the duel resumed with renewed ferocity, Luga taking a hex to the leg as she let out a shout of frustration.

Backing off and narrowly avoiding stumbling into the plastic chair beside the bed, Teddy watched numbly as yet another healer came barging into the room, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he demanded to know:

"Has it stopped?! We'll have to shock him..."

"Don't look, Sweetheart..." Teddy mumbled numbly, not daring to move though he knew he ought whisk Imogen out of the room entirely, and he watched, blood running cold in panic as a trio of healers ripped back the sheets reached to point their wands at his father's chest.

"On three! One...two...three!"

The crowd cried out as the hex struck Dora square in the chest and she stumbled backwards, teeth gritted in pain...

"Again!" the healer demanded as Teddy turned his back on the scene, scooping Imogen up into his arms. "One...two...three!"

The second spell struck Dora so hard that the witch was very nearly knocked backwards off her feet. She sent a feeble hex flying back at Luga, and though it struck the Albanian in the face, causing her nose to give a sudden gush of blood, Luga merely stumbled a little and took fresh definite aim, ready to finish her opponent off...

"One last time!" the healer announced fiercely, and Teddy screwed his eyes shut, pleading silently...

_Come on, Dad..._

"One! Two! THREE!"

Carrie watched numbly as the curse streaked through the air, and Dora seemed too overwhelmed to make any effort to deflect it. She stood, motionless as it flew forward, aiming directly for her...

The spell struck with such force that Carrie felt her own stomach tense, and yet...

Dora's face contorted, teeth gritted stubbornly as she remained stock still...

And the crowd let out a gasp of surprise when quite suddenly the metamorphmagus seemed to bloat, her robes straining against a sudden spurt of mass and just as she had back in the garden when Robert had punched her, Dora remained upon her feet, the spell's effects dampened by the sudden thick layer of fat...

Luga, meanwhile, had already thrown back her head to let out a victorious shout, and as the blubber disintegrated into nothing a mere moment after it had appeared, Dora watched Luga reach to thrust her hands up into the air...

"STUPEFY!" Dora declared, thrusting her wand forward to point directly at the Albanian's chest, and Luga's gaze had barely dropped back to look at her in utter shock when the spell struck her with such force that she was sent flying straight off the platform, landing down by the Albanian bench with an enormous_ thud_!

"Got him!" the healer exclaimed, making Teddy's own heart jump in his chest as the clusters of healers all breathed a sigh of relief. "Merlin, that was a close one..."

Dropping Imogen down into the plastic chair, Teddy hurriedly turned to exclaim:

"He's been poisoned! You have to do something...my...somebody's...somebody's poisoned him! There! On...on the floor!"

Most of the healers turned to gawp at him in astonishment, and yet Healer Jones tutted disapprovingly and demanded:

"Well?! Don't just stand there! Lionel! Fetch a swab so we can identify this substance at once!" Then, to Teddy's shock, the wizard inquired: "Is that a radio? Turn it up, will you? I want to hear how our duellers are doing!"

_...and she's done it! She's actually done it! Nymphadora Lupin of Great Britain defeats Valbona Luga of Albania! The crowd have gone wild! I've never heard such noise! The undefeated Luga is taken down by our very own Deputy Head of Aurors! Brave, Mrs. Lupin! _

And as Teddy felt a sudden rush of pride at such news, he jumped at the sound of a hoarse voice behind him mumbled:

"She's done it...?"

Teddy rushed over to his father's bedside, eyes wide as he exclaimed:

"Dad!"

"Has she done it?"

"Yes, Dad! She's done it! She's beaten Luga!"

Remus frowned deeply, and yet a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Of course she has." he murmured. "Now go and fetch her...bring her back here..."

"She's still got the others to duel, Dad..." Teddy pointed out as the radio announced the second Albanian dueller's ascent to the platform.

"I don't care." Remus mumbled, apparently already drifting back to sleep. "That's quite enough idiocy for one day, thank you very much..."

It took twice as many mediwizards than usual to drag Valbona Luga out of the arena, no stretcher apparently being big enough to carry her, and Carrie felt somewhat smug to watch them struggle to move her, her head lolling lifelessly from side to side as she was slowly moved towards the exit.

Dora's bow to her new opponent was so clumsy that Carrie worried she might very well over balance and fall over, and as she eyed the bench of Albanian duellers still waiting to duel, Carrie couldn't help but feel that Great Britain's victory seemed highly unlikely to say the least.

The British champion disarmed two more opponents before the competition was over.

It ended in a distinctly unconventional manner.

"Bow, please." the judge requested as Dora's fourth opponent came to a halt before her.

Carrie watched the Albanian wizard offer a short bow, and Dora leant forward to do the same...

And with that, the witch promptly passed out, flopping forward into her opponent's distinctly startled arms.

Carrie's heart sank as the Albanian man flung his arms around the British Champion in an attempt to keep her upright...

_And it looks like it's all over, I'm sorry to say! The winners, Albania with three duellers standing, making this year's National Duelling Champion Valbona Luga of Albania..._

Teddy sunk further down into his chair with a heavy sigh of disappointment.

"That bloody woman..." Harry muttered irritably, slamming a fist down upon the sideboard, making Imogen jump again. "Still...she won't think it's that much of a victory, will she? Tonks _did_ beat her!"

Dora was bundled into a hospital bed at Remus' side a mere hour later with Carrie in tow, and as both patients slept fitfully Healer Jones reappeared with news that made Dora's defeat seem instantly insignificant.

"We've identified the poison." he announced, casting one somewhat approving glance sideways at the new addition to his care as Dora shifted in her sleep. "I must say he's lucky to be alive..."

"Is he...is he going to be alright?" Teddy asked, feeling somewhat childish at quite how he sounded, and the healer frowned deeply and told him:

"It's difficult to tell at this stage. He can recover from the poisoning, there's no doubt about that. What will be left, of course, will be his original condition...it is difficult to tell how well he is in that regard whilst he still has the poison in his system..."

"So...so when we were told it's terminal...it...it might...he might..."

"He might very well have fought off the initial infection on his own, yes. But as I say, we can't know that until the poison is gone."

"How long...?"

As he reached to extract a few droplets of one potion or another from a glass vial, leaning to drip them into Remus' mouth, Healer Jones suggested:

"I should expect we'll know within half an hour. Fast working stuff, this antidote..."

And so the wait began.

Carrie found it utterly agonising.

Dora awoke some twenty minutes in, blinking heavily and groggy.

"Where am I?" she mumbled uncertainly as she stared up at the tiled ceiling, and Harry hurried over to inform her:

"You're in St. Mungo's, Tonks. You did us proud."

"Where's Remus?"

"Right here, look..."

The Auror slowly turned her head to gaze at the sleeping werewolf beside her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh good...was he listening?"

"Of course he was. He thinks you're an idiot."

Dora managed a stiff chuckle, reaching a distinctly uncoordinated hand across to brush her fingertips against her husband's arm.

"I think we might owe Carrie an apology, Mum." Teddy said as Imogen rushed round to launch herself onto Dora's bed, making everybody in the room wince a little.

"Do we?" Dora wondered, flinging clumsy arms around the little girl who promptly collapsed atop her, hugging her fiercely.

"Yes..." Teddy admitted, casting a somewhat abashed look at his wife as he reached to slip an arm around her shoulders. "Immy...well she's been rather busy, these past few weeks."

"Have you, Sweetheart?" Dora asked the girl, and Imogen reached to clamp her hands over her face.

"It's alright, Im. Nana's not going to be angry." Teddy said as Carrie's head came to rest against his shoulder. "You see the thing is, Mum, Imogen's been very busy...trying to help Grandad get better...with _medicine_, just like Carrie said."

There was a very long silence as Dora looked from Imogen to Remus, then back to Imogen again.

"You're...not serious..." she mumbled as Imogen squirmed in her arms, and to her surprise Carrie too turned to look at Teddy with wide eyes as if she didn't quite believe it either.

"The cabinet in her room. It's a safe place to keep poisons, Mum. I got Archibald Fisher to take a look at it..."

"No..."

"Yes, Mum."

There was a long pause as Dora stared at Carrie for a long moment, before she promptly buried her face in Imogen's hair and murmured:

"Merlin, Carrie...I..." she began mutter in despair, hugging the child firmly, only for the doors to be pushed open, making her look up again.

Healer Jones' appearance in the room made everybody go suddenly quiet.

The man strode purposefully over to Remus' bedside, brandishing a clipboard and quill, and proceeded to prod, poke and scrutinise the werewolf for several long minutes, muttering to himself and scribbling notes, his expression utterly unreadable.

Carrie reached to grasp hold of Teddy by the hand, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest as yet more notes were scrawled upon a sheet of parchment and Healer Jones said:

"Hmm."

Carrie's heart stopped dead in her chest.

Healer Jones turned to eye Dora and Imogen for a long moment before at last beginning:

"Mrs. Lupin...?"

"Y...yes?" Dora managed, eyes rather wide, and Carrie suddenly felt the urge to drop to her knees because standing up was making her wobbly...

"I'm Healer Jones, Mrs. Lupin. Junior."

"Hestia's...cousin."

"That's right, Mrs. Lupin. Your husband has been poisoned."

"Y...yes...s...so my son tells me..."

"It would appear we've caught it in time, the antidote has done it's job perfectly."

"That's...wonderful..."

"He is of course still extremely unwell..."

"Yes..."

"Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis, I see here."

"Y...yes. How...how's that? T...terminal, Healer Walsh told me this morning..."

"Indeed I expect it looked that way, what with the poison doing it's work."

There was a long, hopeful pause as Healer Jones squinted down at his notes one last time before straightening his robes in a distinctly business-like fashion.

"Mrs. Lupin," he announced at long last as Carrie gritted her teeth in anticipation of what would come next. "It is my professional opinion that, having removed the poison from your husband's system, we can now see that the Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis is in actual fact...in decline."

Dora's mouth dropped open ever so slightly, shifting a little to sit more upright.

"In...in decline, you say?" she breathed, as if she didn't quite believe him.

"That's right." Healer Jones said. And with that he smiled.

"He's going to live? He's going to be alright?"

"I'm very confident, Mrs. Lupin."

Again there was a long pause as everybody in the room attempted to soak up the sudden elation of what had just been said, and Dora drew in a deep breath to speak, her face instantly lighting up...

The door burst open, causing Imogen to let out a small shriek, and Carrie turned in surprise to see an enormous figure looming in the doorway.

Flanked by a couple of news reporters clutching notepads and quills, National Duelling Champion Valbona Luga, her head swathed in bandages, stomped into the room, her face like thunder.

"You!" she exclaimed, thrusting a finger in Dora's direction. "I look all over hospital for you..."

"Ms. Luga..." Dora began rather uncertainly as the Albanian woman stomped over to stand at the bottom of her bed, the reporters scuttling after her, scribbling notes. "National Duelling Champion! Congratulations..."

"You beat me!" Luga accused, reaching to grasp hold of the end of the bed until her enormous knuckles grew white.

As Imogen instantly cowered, burying her face in her grandmother's side, Dora smiled pleasantly.

"Well I did say I would, I suppose..."  
>"I TAKE OUT YOUR ENTIRE TEAM BEFORE YOU!" Luga snapped furiously. "IT WAS NOT A FAIR CONTEST!"<p>

"I don't see what was unfair about it." Dora confessed, smiling up at the half-giant amicably. "After all it was Albania versus Britain, not you versus me. And Albania won, so you ought be very proud..."

"I WANT REMATCH!" Luga demanded, giving her foot a furious stamp that seemed to make the entire room shake. "No Albania! No Britain! Just you and me! I show you! I BEAT YOU!"

At such an idea, the reporters' quill went utterly wild and one scuttled forward to half shove her face in front of Dora as she exclaimed:

"Mrs. Lupin! Misty Amville! Daily Prophet! Tell us, what've you got to say to that? How do you feel?! A challenge from the National Duelling Champion!"

The reporters waited with bated breath for a response as Luga glowered down at the witch in the bed...

And Dora Lupin paused to yawn widely, gaze darting over to her husband still asleep in the bed beside her.

"Well, Miss Amville..." the British Champion admitted, causing the reporter to lean eagerly forward, quill poised ready over her notepad...

"Quite frankly, I couldn't give a toss!"

**Finish.**


End file.
